


Fuck Me Up.

by cherrybomb14



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 87,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrybomb14/pseuds/cherrybomb14
Summary: This is the Ian Gallagher that Mickey Milkovich needed.This is the Ian Gallagher that Mickey Milkovich deserved.This is the Ian Gallagher redemption story.A tale of love, heartache, passion and willpower as two strong people go to great lengths to take care of each other and have their long awaited happy ending.





	1. A Wanted Departure.

Chapter 1 - _A Wanted Departure._  


**Fiona’s perspective.**

The sunlight came pouring out of the kitchen window, shining onto the dining room table. _What a beautiful day to visit my brother in jail._ Fiona thought. Summer was just hitting the South side of Chicago and the temperatures were rising by the day. She opened the front door to get air circulating, hoping it was too early for Frank to make a grand appearance. She rubbed her eyes, pouring her third cup of coffee into her favorite mug. She had been up all night doing the shift schedule for Patsy’s and it was already 10:30. She wanted to get to the jail early to be at work by one. Liam was finishing up a bowl of Frosted Flakes when Lip came down stairs. 

“Alright.” She said, taking four huge gulps from her mug. “We’ll stop at Vees on the way and drop Liam off. Everybody ready?”

She heard the flick of Lip’s lighter.  
“Let’s roll.” 

Fiona gabbed Liam’s back-pack, turning around to face her remaining siblings. Carl was still active in Military school avoiding Kassidi at all costs, while Ian was approaching week number three of being incarcerated. Debs sat in the far-right chair downing a beer, staring at the wall. 

Trevor accompanied them, his phone in his hand and headphones in his ears, unresponsive as usual. Nothing new from him lately. Fiona was becoming progressively annoyed with his attitude since Ian got arrested, especially after she practically had to beg him to come with them today. Ian had only been asking about him nonstop ever since he was allowed his first phone call, but if she had it her way, Trevor wouldn’t be tagging along. His personality took a turn for the worst since Ian was behind bars and nobody had been particularly fond of him. He couldn’t even pick up the phone to call her brother who continuously asked about him, but she made herself push her issues aside for Ian’s sake.

Lip pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. “Little early for beer there, Debs.” 

She laughed sarcastically. “Not in this house.”  
   
Suddenly, there were thudded footsteps smashing down the stairway. Fiona couldn’t help but envision a herd of buffalo.  
   
_Mandy. _She thought. She had a hard time tolerating her, but after she showed up on their doorstep declaring homelessness a couple weeks earlier when her risky escort job failed, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for her and took her in. She was important to Ian and she knew he would have helped her in a heartbeat during any sort of crisis. She gave her job waitressing at Patsy’s after she hounded her for days on end. Mainly to get her out of her hair, but she was doing great so far and didn’t have any complaints or tardiness which is all Fiona could ask for. She gave her Ian’s bed for the time being, but was mostly sleeping in Lip’s, and there wasn’t much sleeping taking place.__

____

She stomped down the last step, snatching Lip’s cigarette from his mouth mid drag. “Are we ready?”  
   
Fiona glanced at Debs who guzzled her Old Style, nearly slamming it on the kitchen table.  
   
“Do you think their giving him his meds? The jail?” She stared at Fiona desperately. Her question sent a surge of uneasiness through her stomach. She rubbed her eyes for a long time before responding. She was exhausted.  
   
“I sure fucking hope so.” Fiona said firmly. She turned to Liam, holding his hand, grabbing her purse and keys off the table. 

 "Does anyone know if he was even taking them before jail?" Lip asked. Fiona pondered this and turned to Trevor for an answer. He was Ian’s boyfriend, after all. Now Debbie, Lip, Mandy and even Liam were looking at Trevor longing for some kind of answer. He finally looked up, reading their expressions. 

“I asked him once. He said he was taking them but I don’t really know.” His voice was low and unconcerned.  
   
Mandy let out an irritated sigh. “Asshole...” She muttered under breath but Fiona was sure no one caught it. Since the day she met him, Fiona observed that Mandy especially couldn’t tolerate Trevor’s presence and made her despise known.

“You’re his boyfriend and you don’t even know if he’s taking his medication?” Debs asked cynically. 

He shot her a look of accusation. “Why should I know? None of you do. It’s not my job. Actually, now that we’re on the subject,” he turned his head back to Fiona sharply. “What medications is Ian even on? How much of it is he prescribed?” She didn’t appreciate his shitty tone. 

“What do you fucking care?” Mandy had a look of disgust on her face. Trevor ignored her.  
   
Fiona thought Trevor’s question was rhetorical until she realized he was waiting for her to speak. Her and Lip exchanged looks; she cleared her throat.

“To be honest with you I can't remember the name of every medication, or exactly how much of it he’s taking... Why do you ask?" She felt stupid giving him an explanation considering he should already know all about Ian’s condition. How could he not? 

He gave her a smug look which instantly made her irritated. 

“Well, I keep hearing you guys talking about Ian's medication. Since he needs it so bad, I figured you would know what he was prescribed." He took a headphone out of his ear as if he was suddenly interested in what she had to say.    
   
Lip interjected, taking his cigarette back from Mandy. "Well Trev, we figured you would know all that. You're his boyfriend. You practically live together, right? He spends all his time with you?” He took a long puff. “I guess we just assumed you would know how your boyfriend is maintaining his mental health." He released a huge cloud of smoke, intentionally blowing it in Trevor's vicinity.  
   
This time he took out both headphones. "Sorry. I don’t know. I really don't. I've never really paid attention. I'm just asking because he could easily be miss diagnosed. You do know a lot of these psychiatrists over prescribe behavioral medications to people who don’t even need them? These big pharma companies are only looking to scrape every last penny from your pocket. Especially in poverty-stricken cities like this. You really think Ian needs five different pills in him? It’s a little much.”  
   
Lip let out a small snicker. "Ian told me you worked with troubled teens but he must have left out that you were a doctor, too. You seem like you really know your shit. You should open up a clinic here in the Southside." The sarcasm was almost thicker than the tension in the room. It was clear that Fiona wasn't the only one annoyed with Trevor's pretentious attitude lately.   
   
Before Trevor could rebuttal Mandy's voice projected across the kitchen. "You can save your little pharmaceutical speech. Ian's sick and those meds keep him sane. End of story."   
   
Trevor shrugged lazily. “I’m just saying, based off what I’ve seen, Ian is fine. He’s content. He’s functional. He’s a contributing member to society. Yeah he got arrested which is a set back but as far as his mental state goes he’s fine—“

Debbie interrupted. “He’s fine because you’ve never seen him off his meds.” Fiona could sense her impatience. 

Trevor continued. “All I hear from you guys is meds meds meds.” He did some weird hand motion like he was reeling in a fish. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to be constantly medicated. That shit can effect you.”  
   
Fiona heard a beer bottle slam again. Everyone looked at Debbie. “Are you saying Ian doesn’t need medication?” She asked in disbelief. 

Before Trevor could respond, Fiona couldn’t keep her mouth shut any longer. “Trevor, those meds are what keeps him functional. You’ve never seen Ian without them. He needs them. Why am I explaining this to you like it’s breaking news? Has he not mentioned this to you? Have you two not talked about it? Because I feel like it should have been discussed.” She crossed her arms violently. 

Watching Trevor shrug again filled her with rage.

“I mean, we’ve talked about it a few times but I don’t think it’s as severe as you guys make it out to be. He has mental health issues. I get it. But loading him up daily on some psycho-sedative cocktail isn’t helping him. That shit fucks with your brain chemistry. It can be dangerous. He could get really fucked up from it. I’m just saying. Somebody needs to be monitoring what he’s taking—“

“Somebody was!” More slamming. Fiona jumped, and so did Trevor. This time it was Mandy. She had her fists on the table, knuckles white. Without the name being said, everyone knew who she was referring to. The only person, besides Ian’s family, that did any type of monitoring regarding his prescription. 

"Look man," Lip took one last puff from his Marb before throwing it out into the doorway. "I here you. I get what you're saying, but those medications keep him leveled. He's a fucking mess without them. You don't want to see Ian have an episode. It's not pretty." He shook his head, staring at Trevor grimly. 

He laughed. "An episode? What kind of episode? Does he start rocking back and forth chanting to himself like the bums under the L?"

Now Mandy was yelling. "Is this funny to you? It's not a fucking joke! And what the fuck do you care anyway? Fiona’s only been harassing you to come see him since he’s been in there!"

Trevor stood up so fast his chair launched three steps behind him. “Well somebody should be aware of his diagnosis before shoving a bunch of happy pills down his throat and it’s not my fucking job!”

Mandy made some sort of angered groan, bawling her hands into fists again. Fiona could feel her lip curling, turning to Liam then motioning him to the living room. She whipped back around looking Trevor directly in his eyes. “Trust me,” She flipped her hair out her face. “If you saw him go crazy and knew how bad it was, or how bad it can be, you would be more or less pinning Ian to the ground shoving those happy pills down his fucking throat. And nobody said it was your job. I just figured it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle monitoring your boyfriend’s mental state.”

"You don't even know what he's taking! Nobody does! Maybe if you stopped loading him up on a shit ton of pills he wouldn’t be sitting in jail right now!" He was shouting now. Fiona watched Lip take a step forward, while Mandy walked up to Trevor, making her eyes level to his. 

"Let's get a few things straight here. One, I don't like you," Everyone watched as Mandy stuck her finger in his face. He rolled his eyes. She was so close to him their noses nearly touched. "And two, I don’t know what dreamworld you were living in with Ian but all of the people in this room have watched him lose his shit, except you. You haven’t seen him attempting to slit peoples throats, kidnapping my nephew and taking him cross country with only the clothes on his back, chasing people with baseball bats. You haven’t seen him amped up like he's on crank for a week then crashing in bed until he feels okay again. That shit it serious. And if you're saying what I think you're saying, that Ian doesn't need his medicine, and he’s fine without it, you and I are gonna have a fucking problem." Her finger went from in front of his face to poking him in the middle of his chest. “And it’s obvious you don’t give a shit about him.”

Trevor’s eyes narrowed. "Oh okay. So I'm just supposed to listen to Ian's jail-break criminal ex boyfriend’s slutty sister who's nothing but a retired classy prostitute?"

"Wow." Debbie said, her face in shock. Fiona was in shock herself, hearing what Trevor was saying.

Mandy giggled maniacally as she got closer to his face. If Fiona didn't know any better she thought was going to strike him. 

"Call me what you want, but that jail-break criminal is my brother, and he loved the fuck out of Ian. And if he were here right now, and knew the shit you were saying, about Ian being just peachy with no medication, well," she giggled evilly again, sizing him up. "Let's just say you wouldn’t be standing in this kitchen with all your limbs in tact.” She gave a creepy smile and backed away.

Trevor stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, then gathered his belongings. “You know what? Fuck this. It’s not worth it.” He walked over to the doorway, stopping in front of Lip who gave him a curtsy escort out the door.

Just like that, he was gone. 

“Bye.” Said Debbie, waving her hand dramatically. She gulped the remainder of her beer. “Now, I’m ready.”

“So that’s it? He’s just leaving? Should I go after him?” Fiona said nervously. 

“No.” Said Lip, Mandy and Debbie in unison. 

Mandy shut the door and locked it. “If I knew that would have got rid of him so fast I would have said that shit a long time ago. Now let’s go.”

Fiona would be lying if she said she wasn’t relieved on Trevor leaving but she wasn’t looking forward to breaking the news to Ian.


	2. Metal Motel.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mandy goes with the Gallagher's to visit Ian in jail and something isn't quite right.

**Mandy’s perspective.**

All Mandy could hear was the tick of the clock as they waited for Ian’s arrival on the other side of the glass. They were all sitting in the small viewing window anxiously, packed like sardines. She couldn’t help but feel excited since Ian didn’t know she was back yet. She glanced over at Fiona who had a worried expression on her face. She was clearly nervous to spill the beans to Ian about Trevor’s exit. Good riddance is all Mandy could think. 

BUZZZZZ. The loud alarm echoed her ear drums. They all watched as the giant metal door unbolted and opened forcefully. Walking in single file, a line of inmates went to their assigned seats, finding their families and beginning their muffled conversation. Of course, Ian was last to take his seat. 

She sized him from the ground up finally meeting his soft, inviting smile. The one that she remembered so well and didn’t realize she had missed so much. He looked good. Bigger than usual. She assumed he had been working out more, by the looks of it. His arms were noticeably larger and his shoulders seemed wider. His head was shaved. Probably the shortest she had seen it. He made eye contact with his brother and sisters before finally meeting hers. His smile went from a pleasant corner grin to a full on ear to ear. She mirrored his welcome. 

“Mandy?! What the hell are you doing here?!” His voice rang with excitement. 

“I came back a couple weeks ago. Fiona’s been letting me stay. You surprised?” She released a small laugh. 

He nodded. “Hell yeah I’m surprised. How are you?” 

She laughed again. “Better than you are, obviously. Never thought I’d talk to you behind this glass.”

He shrugged. “Yeah it’s not exactly how I planned our next visit. I just can’t believe you’re here! We have a lot to catch up on. Damn I can’t wait to get out of here.” He looked at his siblings. “I miss you guys.” 

“We miss you too, Rambo. Jesus Christ you benching your cell mates?” Lip chuckled.

Ian laughed. “Yeah I’ve been working out a little bit. There’s not much else to do.”

“How is everything else?” Debbie asked him. Mandy knew what she was implying. 

He shrugged. “As good as it can be. It’s jail.” After a slight pause, Ian looked behind their heads. Mandy watched as that million dollar grin began to slide off his face. She felt hers fading also. 

“Where’s Trevor?” He asked firmly. Mandy’s eyes met Fiona’s.

Fiona flashed a half hearted smile. “He was going to come but...” Her eyes met Mandy’s again. “He left earlier.” It looked almost painful for her to say those words. 

Ian looked confused. “Why did he leave?” 

“Because he’s an asshole.” Said Mandy assertively. “Ow!” She winced in pain after Fiona nudged her in the shin.

“Ian, I’m telling you this because I love you. Trevor made a choice to leave today. He didn’t like some of the things we had to say and he left.” Fiona’s eyes were sorrowful, looking back at Ian’s. 

His eyebrows turned. “Oh. Great. I can only imagine what you guys said to him.”

Before anyone could respond Mandy made her voice heard. “He doesn’t think you have a disease Ian. He doesn’t even care if you do. He only cares about himself.”

“You’re better off without him.” Lip added.

Debbie and Fiona’s silence confirmed Lip’s statement. There was another long silence as Mandy watched his eyes shift while he processed what he heard. 

“Oh well.” He put his hands in the air. “Fuck him, right?” He let out a shaky laugh. 

Even Mandy was a little surprised by his short reaction. 

She was getting tired of glancing at Fiona. “Well that was easier than I thought it would be. Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked. 

More laughing broke out. “Yeah, I’m great! I only have one more week here. I’m ready to get out and see the world. I’m thinking about traveling.”

There was a long pause before anyone said anything. She could feel practically Fiona's stare but didn't look over.

“Are you taking your meds?” Debs asked finally. “Did you tell them you need them?” She pointed at the officer behind them. 

Ian turned around slightly to see who she was pointing at, then rolled his eyes. He threw his hands up in the air as if he had enough. “Yes. Okay? Jesus. Is that what you guys came here for?”

“Is that really why you think we came here?” Lip asked him seriously. 

Ian ignored him. “You guys probably said some shit that scared him off. He should be here right now.” His eyes were glossy.

“No. He shouldn’t. You’ve been here for how long and he hasn’t even answered your calls? It was like pulling his fucking teeth to even get him to come with us today and look, he’s still not here.” Mandy had no problem telling him like it was. 

Lip scratched his head. “He’s a dick, man.”

The conversation ended awkwardly, but nothing else was spoken of it. There were more I miss you’s and I love you’s exchanged. Mandy asked everyone to go ahead and wait for her outside. There was roughly five minutes of visitation left and she wanted to talk to him privately. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Mandy asked after everyone was out of sight. 

Ian smiled. “With what? God I missed you. How’s the escort job?”

She ignored his question. She had other things on her mind. “Well for one, what is with these fucking dudes you’re picking?”

Ian laughed nervously. He put his hands behind his neck, looking oddly relaxed for sitting in an orange jumpsuit behind bullet proof glass. “Yeah, I’ve dated a little bit. So what?”

She rolled her eyes. “How do you go from my alcoholic, pistol whipping piece of shit brother to a dude with a vagina?”

“Jesus Christ Mandy, tell me how you really feel. Trevor is transgender if you really want to get technical. He makes me happy. Or, he did make me happy.” He shrugged.

“You seem crushed.” She said sarcastically.

He roared with laughter obnoxiously. “Right? Whatever. Life goes on. Only one more week in here and I can move onto bigger and better things—”

“Oh, like more Gay Jesus cults?” She interrupted. 

“Shut up." He smiled. "I’m actually thinking about getting my old job back at the Fairytale since I made good money there. I want to move out of the house. I can feel Fiona breathing down my breath already. We should get a place together, you and I. That would be cool. We could get a two bedroom somewhere on the Northside and finally get out of this shithole, just like you always wanted. Maybe Lip would come too.” Mandy studied him. He was talking so fast she could barely keep up. His eyes were shifting quickly. “We could get a car. Go on road trips. Visit the country. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Mandy stared at him long and hard. “Ian, are you on your meds? For real.”

He huffed loudly. “Why? Why is that so important to everyone? I’m fine, Mandy. Sheesh.”

“I didn’t ask if you were fine. I asked if you were taking your medication.” 

A ten second silence confirmed her assumptions. 

She shook her head placing her hand on her forehead. “I knew it. I fucking knew it.” She pointed at him and actually poked the glass between them. “Wait until Mickey hears about this.”

His facial expression faded in an instant and warped into a cross between confusion and surprise. “Mickey?”

Mandy’s eyes widened. “Yeah, Mickey. You know, your ex you broke up with after he basically wiped your ass and took care of you, then you ditched him at the border when he wanted to start the rest of his life with you? Ring a bell?”

Ian sighed deeply, looking regretful. “You’ve talked to him?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “I do. All the time. Mostly about you. That’s pretty much why he calls, anyway.”

He smiled. “How’s he doing?”

“Not good. Awful, actually. He’s a fucking wreck, Ian.” She said firmly. “I can barely understand him when we talk because he’s always hammered. Why didn’t you just... go with him?”

He stuttered. “To... to Mexico? Because that wasn’t me, Mandy. I don’t live that life anymore.”

She scoffed. “News flash! Look where the fuck you are!” She pointed around the outer pale walls of the jail around them. “Guess it really doesn’t matter much now, does it?”

Ian looked down at his hands in his lap. “Please tell him I wish the best for him.”

She smiled slyly. “I’ll tell him when I see him next week.” 

“You’re going to Mexico?!” Ian exclaimed. 

“Hell no. He’s in Chicago.” She answered proudly.

BUZZZZZ. The alarm rang.

“Take care of yourself and take your fucking meds, Ian. I’ll see you soon.” Mandy scrambled out of her seat swiftly, exiting the visiting area before she could meet his eyes. 

It was going to be a long week.


	3. Whiskey Straight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mandy pays a visit to Mickey, giving him details on Ian. Self-medicating isn't doing him much good and he isn't happy with the news he receives. He refuses to be involved in anymore heartache.

  
**Mickey’s perspective.**

It was an unusually cold day in Chicago for being the middle of July. Clouds took over the sky and a light rain sprinkle began. Mickey was polishing off a bottle of Jack Daniels before the clock struck noon. He sat at the window, watching the rain pour over the city. It was his favorite place to sit and where he spent most of his time, chain smoking and taking pulls from his bottle while swallowing nameless prescription pills. He spent days here thinking, with one person permanently on his mind. It drove him crazy and literally pained him to think about him, day in and day out, but he couldn’t stop. Their last few moments together replayed in his brain like a broken record and no matter how much he attempted to block him out with drugs and alcohol, nothing could numb him enough to keep his mind from wandering back to that tall, lanky redhead kid from the Southside he met years ago. 

Mexico was fun and had its good moments, but money was hard to come by and finding illegal work was harder than he expected. When he wasn’t shitfaced, buried in his own vomit or inhaling smuggled cocaine, he was sitting on the beach watching the tide, worrying about Ian and what he was up to. A few weeks before he made his exit and headed back to the upper 50, Mandy sent him a YouTube link to Ian’s recent Gay Jesus endeavor. After the hysterics wore off, Mickey was completely dumbfounded by what he witnessed. What had Ian become? He didn’t know if Ian had completely lost his shit again or this was just in a weird phase in his life. Whatever was happening, Mickey knew he needed to be close to him. He couldn’t stand being so far.

He was a criminal who broke out of prison and crossed the border illegally, so crossing back wasn’t easy. He hadn’t spoken to his father in years but he had a few friends down there whom he helped him push cocaine in the past. One of them conveniently had a connection with border control. Faith was on his side and he eventually tracked him down. He agreed to help him get back across but unfortunately, it wasn’t without a price. He did some voluntarily drug dealing and a few other sketchy, illegal jobs he wasn’t proud of until he “earned” enough money to be led back across. He did some things he would most likely never repeat, but a deal was a deal and there was no lengths Mickey wouldn’t go to see Ian. It was yet another valiant and traumatic effort on his part to be closer to the man he loved. He got ahold of Iggy while in town the day he left and asked if he could come stay with him for a while. Iggy had been in some kind of car accident which granted him a giant settlement. He bought a decent house but it was still in the shit part of the city. Mickey didn’t ask too many questions, he was just content with having a place to lay his miserable head. As much as he hated to admit it, he was relieved to be back in Chicago. This way he could stay close to Ian and observe from a distance, slowly plotting a way to eventually see him. Until then, he was sitting in this huge empty house, staring out the window, worrying about Ian. He grabbed the last cigarette in his pack, sparked it, took another huge swig from his nearly empty whiskey bottle and continued his staring. So many scattered thoughts had been stored in his brain for so long. _Why didn’t he just come with me? Why can’t we just be together?_ These questions paired with painful memories of their limited time together only resulted in hazy sleepless nights accompanied by copious amounts of mood altering substances. Late night phone calls to Mandy on the brink of suicide weren’t uncommon.

His life had lost all meaning, all purpose and all point. He had become a useless jail runaway and a hopeless statistic. The only hope that kept him halfway going was that one day he could see Ian again. He could feel his body close to him just one more time, and that would be enough...  
But sadly, that would never be enough. He wanted all of him, every part of him, every day, for the rest of his life. 

He stretched out sleepily as if he had a long day of intense labor, when in reality he had barely moved. Today would be more eventful than usual, though. Mandy was stopping by to bring him a few things. He wondered if she had any new updates on Ian. He wished so bad he could drive just a few miles and go see him, but that was unrealistic and would only be a recipe for disaster. After being in another country for over two years he was back in Chicago, he was just a few miles away from the love of his life and he still was restricted to see him. 

He yawned, standing up to grab his clothes on the floor. _Guess I should get decent._ He thought. Once he got on his feet he lost his footing and tripped on the side of the bed. The end table next to him flipped suddenly, sending his bottle flying as well as his ash tray. 

“FUCK!” He shouted, covered in whiskey-soaked cigarette ash. He grabbed a shirt by the side of the bed and attempted to wipe the mess on his chest. The charcoaled grey spots smeared into his skin. He groaned, throwing the shirt lazily in defeat. He walked across the hall and into the bathroom, undressing and turning on the shower water before finding a suitable temperature. He stepped in and propped his arm on the cool tile wall while he ran his face under the scorching water, rubbing his eyes periodically. The water felt incredibly relaxing. He sighed deeply, remembering this was yet another solitary place he could do nothing but think and reflect on his pitiful life. This is all it was now; a literal shit show of minor, uneventful occurrences that strung along from the time he woke up to the time he eventually went to sleep. He looked up above him and stared at the cracked, chipped ceiling above him before closing his eyes. He could feel a lump in the back of his throat as tears began to form. He was about to release his emotions when the shower curtain flew open.

“JESUS CHRIST!” He yelled. This startled him and automatically snapped him out of his temporary weep session. He wiped the water from his eyes and saw Mandy standing there, resting bitch face in full effect. He shut off the water. “You know how to fucking knock?!” He grabbed a towel hanging on the back of the door.

“Uh yeah, I was for about ten minutes and you wouldn’t answer. Put some clothes on.” She walked out of the bathroom slamming the door.

“I’m working on it!” He dried off, wiping all the beads of water off his body. He threw on his boxers and walked back into to the bedroom. Mandy was on the floor cleaning up the remnants from the ashtray.

“This place is a fucking disaster. When does Iggy come back?” She said, screwing the top on to his Jack Daniels. What was left of it, anyway. 

“Fuck if I know. He’s with that bitch in Florida he met at the Alibi. He’s been gone for weeks.” He picked up the empty pack of cigarettes, remembering he had none left. He threw it on the floor. “Did you get my smokes?” He asked impatiently, grabbing the whiskey from her. He unscrewed the cap again and chugged the remaining few ounces, throwing the bottle on the bed which joined the large pile of other empty bottles. He stumbled backward almost losing his balance again. This time he managed to not fall. He reached for a pill bottle, rattled it, opened the cap and poured several small white pills into his hand then popped them in his mouth.

“Those aren’t fucking Altoids, you know. God you’re a mess.” She said as she ripped the empty bottle from his hand. She read the label and tossed it back on the bed. She pulled out a carton of Marlboro Reds from her purse and attempted to chuck it at his head. He ducked quickly, dodging her throw and watching them hit the wall behind him.

“What the fucks a matter with you?” He asked, picking up the carton.

“You’re a fucking mess!” She shouted.

He nodded, his eyes wide. “You mentioned that. You bring my liquor?” He asked.

She reached back into her bag again handing him a bottle of Jack and also revealing an 18 rack she had sitting on the floor.

He grabbed the bottle hesitantly. “Thanks...” He said quietly. He had been putting major pressure on her for months now and he felt guilty making her run around all over the place bringing him what he needed but being wanted by the FBI put quite a damper on leaving the house. Although he didn’t say it, he was thankful for his sister. She was all he had. 

“When’s the last time you ate something? You look awful.”

After he didn’t answer her she opened the rack of beer, reaching for a can and cracking it open. She took a thirty second sip, finishing the entire can. She crushed it and threw it on the bed. 

Mickey laughed forcefully. “Your boyfriend still sober?”

She shook her head. “He’s not my boyfriend.” She corrected him, handing him a can.

After they had that subject established, there was a long period of silence between the two of them. They sat there for a while, sipping beer and smoking cigarettes, now both looking out the window. Mickey wanted to interrupt the quiet with his concerns, but he knew Mandy would eventually bring them up anyway. He waited patiently for her to collect herself as she exhaled, putting her cigarette out in the now clean ashtray.

“I saw Ian.” She said gently. “I visited him in jail last week. He gets out tomorrow.”

Mickey almost dropped his beer on the ground. The sound of his name created a whole mixture of emotions in his head. He felt almost dizzy as a rush of tiny little butterflies fluttered through his insides. He had trouble speaking.

“Uh…” He moved forward in his chair. “Fuck. How is he? Is he alright?” He didn’t really know where to begin. “Wait— a week ago? You saw Ian a week ago and you didn’t fucking tell me?” He felt his eyes getting wet but he swallowed his tears. He was tired of crying all the time.

Mandy looked nervous. “I know, I’m sorry. I just wanted to tell you in person.”

“Fuck, man.” He stroked the back of his head nervously. “What did he say? Did you tell him I was back?” He was almost mad at himself for expressing such a desperate tone.

Mandy nodded. “I told him. I also told him you’re a wreck.” She looked around the room at the horrendous mess. “But...” her voice faded. 

“What?” His eyes followed hers. He stood up, towering over her. “Mandy what? Fucking say it.”

She exhaled again, this time putting her face in her hands. She looked up at him, concern full in her eyes. “He’s off his meds. He was doing that thing where he talks really fast about all this random shit and you can’t keep up with him. You wouldn’t even know he was locked up because he’s just way too happy. He's all hyped up. He was going a million miles a minute...”

Mickey sat back down. He looked out the window again, opening another beer, lighting another cigarette. 

“Did he say he was off his meds? You know for sure?” He said finally.

She nodded slowly. “He said he was without really saying it. I can just tell, you know? He’s acting crazy. But I’m going to talk to him tomorrow and try and get him to fill his prescription. Don’t worry, I’ll make him go. Maybe we can come by—“ 

He cut her off. “No. Don’t even bother. Fuck that.” He had been through so much just see him again, but he couldn’t handle this. He had to draw the line somewhere. He couldn’t subject himself to another psychotic rollercoaster. It was too much.

“Mickey he’s all you’ve talked about for the last—“

“I don’t fucking care.” His tone was stern. Smoke came from his mouth as he spoke. “If he’s really off his meds, I don’t want to fucking see him. Fuck that. I busted my ass giving way too many fucks for that kid, trying to get him straight, and he’s right back to square fucking one? I came all the way back here from a different fucking country to see him and he’s going psycho again? No. No fucking way. I’m good.”

Mandy laughed in annoyance. “Okay, so you’re just going to ignore him? Pretend he isn’t there and try to drink him away like usual? You should know by now it doesn’t work. Jesus Christ Mickey, he’s like four miles away.”

His voice was breaking up. “I don’t care if he’s in the other fucking room. I put myself through hell and back for him. I’m not doing it again. It’s his fucking turn. He can go to the clinic, he can get his meds lined up, he can get straight, he can come find me.” He could barely contain himself. His anger was building and he couldn’t control it. He jumped out of his seat suddenly, extending his arm back then thrusting his fist into the wall next to him. He could see Mandy flinch in the corner of his eye. He shook his hand in pain as tiny pieces of paint and foundation went flying. 

“After I went to jail, escaped jail, and fled to the border for that motherfucker? He wants to see me, he can do this shit for me. He can work for it. I can’t... I can’t... do this again.” He stuttered uncontrollably. This time he couldn’t hold it back and he didn’t even attempt to. The tears began flowing. “I’m not fucking doing it again, Mandy. I... I won’t make it this time.” He sat back down in his chair, unable to stand. “If he doesn’t do this, if he doesn’t fight for me, then I’ll know he really never gave a fuck.” He threw his beer can against the wall and began sobbing.

He stared back at her and saw one single tear streaming down her pale face. It was tinted black from her eyeliner. She wiped it away. 

“Okay, Mickey. I get it.” She said conclusively. “I’ll figure it out, alright? I’ll get him straight.”

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. He just sat in his chair and continued to sob.


	4. Extra Pulp.

**Mandy’s perspective.**

“This is fucking ridiculous.” Mandy was sitting on Liam’s bed, watching Ian reorganize every piece of clothing in their room. There were stacked piles scattered all over the floor. What appeared to be Ian organizing was actually Ian placing his siblings clothing in some sort of ordered, systematic cluster fuck. Not only could she barely walk in their room but she could hardly take him seriously with his outfit choice. He was wearing a red and purple silk robe with tassels hanging from the bottom, a grey wool scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, a maroon red fedora with a feather on the side and Debbie’s turquoise flip-flops which were about three sizes too small and his feet.  
   
“What? This place needs a good, deep cleaning.” He smiled cheerfully.  
   
She wanted to grab a sweater from one of the piles he was adding to and strangle him. It had only been three days since he was out of jail and he was already on a warpath. He had moved all the beds around and started hanging all sorts of artwork he had received from his fans during his Gay Jesus escapade. Mandy couldn’t even look at them without feeling violated. He had empty beer bottles in order by brand and cigarette packs stacked on top of one another. He also had a “workout station” in the corner of the room with random weights she had never seen before, but didn’t bother asking where they came from. If Fiona were here and witnessed how he was acting or took one look at their newly renovated bedroom she would know instantly he was off his meds. Mandy knew she already had an idea but she was busy with work and hadn’t been home much lately. Besides, Ian wasn’t a teenage boy anymore and needed to sort out his own problems. Mandy just needed to push him, maybe even force him if she had to. Either way, she wasn’t going to let her brother down.

She was preparing to drop the ball on Ian about her visit with Mickey, but she was procrastinating. She didn’t want to give him any details while he was in this state of mind, even though she figured it would come up sooner or later.  
   
Regardless of Mickey and his issues, her, Lip and Ian had an agreement, and she wasn’t going to let him forget.  
   
“This is getting so fucking old. You said yesterday we’d go refill your script but here we are.” She stood up from the bed, jumping between piles to get across the room. “We’re going today.”  
   
He laughed. “Mandy, I’m fine. Everything’s just fine. Can you hand me Liam’s red Spiderman shirt right next to you there?” She looked at her feet where he was pointing. She grabbed the shirt and tossed it at him when something vivid and brightly colored caught her eye. She picked it up, discovering it was pair of obnoxious neon pink men’s underwear. 

“Please tell me these aren’t yours.” She said in disgust, pinching them between her fingernails. 

Ian laughed loudly. “No. Those are Trevor’s. He’s got a few things here I’ve set aside in case he decides to pick them up.”  
   
“Gross. Anyways,” She gagged and threw them on the ground, reminding herself she couldn’t get sidetracked. “Listen crazy,” She walked over to him and got right in face, invading his space as much as she could without spitting on him when she spoke. “You think you’re fine but you’re not fine. This isn’t normal and we’re going to get your prescription filled right now so get your shit.” She motioned her hand out the door way. 

Ian rolled his eyes. She had the increasing urge to slap him across the face. “Oh come on. We really have to go right now? I’m almost done here.” He said folding a pair or kaki shorts, throwing them into a pile of jeans. “I have so much energy! I can’t stop now.”

“Oh yeah you can and you are. I can’t take it anymore. Let’s go. And put some real clothes on for Christ’s sake. It’s not like you don’t have any to choose from.” She looked around at the piles of clothes. 

He ignored her, continuing his chaotic sorting. 

“If you don’t come with me right now I’m telling Fiona you’re going insane and I think you’d much rather deal with me than her. I’m not kidding.” She grabbed his wrist and pressed firmly, ripping the shirt he was holding from his hands. “You promised Lip and I you would get on your meds and get back on track. This isn’t normal. I’m scared...” Her voice carried off but she continued. “I’m scared you’re going to really lose it again and do some bad shit. It’s only a matter of time before you crash in your bed for however long and I’m trying to prevent that this time. You need to do this. You owe it to your family and you owe it to Mickey.” Before she could stop herself she realized she had mentioned his name. 

He stopped sorting and looked up at her, clearly puzzled.  
   
“Oh don’t fucking look at me like that!” Her patience had run out. “He tried so fucking hard to keep you healthy. He did everything for you and you shit on him, Ian. Now get off your ass, go fill your prescription, take your medicine and get your shit straight. Then go see Mickey because he’s waiting for you.” She waved her hands towards the door again.  
   
“Waiting for me? You’ve seen him?” He asked, clearly interested.  
   
She was tired of repeating herself and she was tired of his overly energetic, manic episode. He was wearing her out. “Yeah, I’ve seen him. We talked about this when you were in jail but you’re too wrapped up in your tweaker bullshit to open your eyes and see what the fuck is going on around you. Mickey’s been sitting on his ass getting loaded all day for months now, worrying about you.”  
   
He sat down on his bed looking gloomy, then suddenly perked up. “Why can’t we go right now? Where is he?” He asked excitedly. He was like a naive child. His innocent, youthful smile reminded her of when they had first met years back.  
   
“Because,” Her mind flashed back to Mickey sitting in that room, surrounded by empty bottles while bawling his eyes out. Just the mental image of it was emotionally shattering. “He refuses to see you like this. He can’t put himself through that pain again.” She said desperately. It was true, and she couldn’t deal with seeing him in that condition.  
   
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” He said, staring into his lap.  
   
The anger she had inside her continued growing. Frustrated, she ran fingers through her hair. She was on the verge of ripping it out.  
   
“That’s the whole problem! You think you’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing is ever your fault.” She didn’t know how else to get through to him besides raising her voice. “You fucked him up bad, Ian. Admit it! He came out for you and you stole his infant son... He gave you a place to live and you cheated on him... More than once, might I add. He went to prison for you, broke out of prison for you, went to Mexico to be with you, and you left him there. Do I really have to say more? The guy is so hung up on you it’s sick. I don’t even know why. He did everything for you and you left him. He made sure you were healthy and he took care of you.” She almost wanted to cry but held her emotions back. “What the fuck have you done besides hurt him? It’s your turn to love him.”  
   
“I know. I fucked up. I still have so much love for him but after everything I didn’t know he still cared—“  
   
She threw her hands up in the air. “Are you fucking kidding me? He’s never going to not care! He’s never going to just get over it. He doesn’t even move, he just sits on his ass and drinks all day. He’s taking all kinds of pills. It’s not good.” She studied his face as he looked remorseful. “He came all the way back to Chicago for you because he saw your weird homo Jesus shit and he was worried about you, Ian. No one is going to ever love you like my brother does. When are you going to pull your psycho head out of your ass and realize it? He loves you and you love him. So get it the fuck together.”

“I...” His tone was sympathetic. “I didn’t know it was like that. I didn’t know he was that bad.”  
   
She knew that he wasn’t his normal self. If he was, the severity of the situation would have hit him like a ton of bricks. He didn’t say anything, and Mandy wasn’t going to make him, but she was going to make him go get his medication.

“Mandy... I love Mickey. I’ll always love Mickey. I had no idea this was going on. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He asked.  
   
“Because you’re not right. You’re manic and you’re starting to scare me. You have a disease and you need to realize it. I don’t know what happened since the last time I was in Chicago but you were fine before. Now you’re all over the place. Everyone sees it. I told Mickey you were off your medication and he doesn’t want to see you until you figure your shit out. You know he’s not wrong. It hurts him to see you like this and it hurts me too.“ She felt a small tear escape her eye. This was hard for her since she didn’t have a childhood where she could pour her feelings out so most of them stayed contained. Whether it was his current mental break finally taking a toll on her or just the simple kindness of his heart, Ian had a certain way of bringing her emotions to the surface.

A loving grin appeared on his face. “Don’t cry. You’re too pretty to cry.”

She smiled back but it wasn’t as genuine as his. “Listen, we can talk about this later on when you’re in your right frame of mind. Let’s go, Ian. Please. Or I’ll call Lip and make him drag you down there. Don’t make this hard. You promised us.” She put her hand on his shoulders and stared into his green eyes. They were usually soft and inviting but were now wide and alert, shifting in a million different directions. “I know it sounds fucked up, and I don’t want to put pressure on you, but I don’t know how long he’ll last. If you get your mind normal, he would love to see you. Please listen to me.”

“You’re going to make me go either way.” He smiled weakly. It was a statement and not a question. He began to get dressed.


	5. Pulp Free.

  
**Ian's perspective.**  
   
  **\- Three weeks later -**  
   
Ian was doing his usual pull-ups off the doorframe in his bedroom. He was a little rusty from laying low for the past few of weeks, but he was still strong, and bigger than ever. He spent most of his time in his room and didn't really go anywhere or do much of anything, which wasn’t like him since he was typically very active. Mandy and Lip kept a close eye on him daily making sure he was reacting to the meds alright. It was recommended that he kept the same dosage as before, but when he started them again he was horribly nauseated and spent most mornings in the bathroom. Due to the constant drowsiness he was mostly sleeping for the first week but his body had slowly become used to them. He forgot how hard it would physically hit him, getting adjusted to his medications again, but it made him regret ever stopping them in the first place. After the fuzzy haziness wore off he was usually reading or working out, trying to keep his mind clear of anything that would put stress on him, but that didn't happen as easily as he hoped. The nights were restless; he was usually awake, chain smoking and drinking beers. It definitely was not advised that he mix his behavioral medication with alcohol but he couldn’t just give up everything. An ice cold Old Style was his only vice, especially in the hot weather.  
   
Since his nights were long and sleepless, he had plenty of extra time to reflect on things. Mickey more than anything else. There was a time in his life where he could see him whenever he wanted, when he could spend days with him and just simply be in his presence. He took those times for granted and was full of nothing but regret. At night when he laid awake, he could still smell his scent of Mickey on his pillow, his sheets, his blankets… It was such a distinct smell that Ian had it engraved in his memory and whenever he would catch wind of it, it would send his mind racing with flashbacks. The feel of his soft hands on his face and the warmness of his skin. More small, beautiful things he didn’t cherish as much as he should have.  
   
Though he couldn't remember much before Mandy convinced him to get on his meds, she retold what Mickey was going though and more or less it killed him, slowly eating away at him. She told him about his dangerous ways of getting back into the states, his addiction battles and his undeniable need for happiness that only Ian could provide. He always knew that Mickey was the love of his life but he understood now that he didn’t treat him the way he deserved, and Mandy did a great job at reminding him. All he could do was improve himself and become the best version of himself he could be. Mandy was right, he truly owed it to him. He was distraught about the whole situation and wanted nothing more than to go see him, but she was making it extremely difficult. Whenever he would ask if he could just speak to Mickey she told him time and time again that she wanted to be sure he was one hundred percent stable before opening up any communication between them. Ian discovered that Mickey called her constantly, and she always took the call in the other room, avoiding Ian. He had overheard her on the phone with him a few times reporting a current update on Ian’s mental health status. He would always try ask to talk to him but she would never give in which was infuriating. He didn't fight her though because he knew why she refused, but he still asked faithfully, every day.  
   
He thought about Mickey constantly, having infinite anxiety about him and his quality of life. He was terrified that he was going to really go over the edge soon, but Mandy reassured him that Ian’s progress was keeping him going. The only other insight she would provide is that he was alive breathing. He eventually figured out she was going to see him once a week or so, bringing him booze and cigarette cartons. Thinking of Mickey alone, constantly drunk and medicated made Ian’s heart ache. He couldn't distract himself or keep himself entertained long enough to prevent his mind from falling right back on Mickey. It literally pained him to imagine him suffering and wished for nothing more than touch him and feel him again. He often found himself fantasizing of the next time they would see each other and embracing him in his arms. His last memory was kissing his lips at the border, giving him what he thought was a final goodbye. Now, he had a second chance; a second opportunity to be with him, to do things right, and he wasn't going to screw it up.  
   
He finished his pull-up set, hopping down from the doorway and stretching his arms. It was early in the morning and Debbie, Lip and Mandy were all surprisingly awake already. Fiona was absent which wasn’t uncommon these days. She was barely ever around and only sent Ian a checkup text every few days which was the most of their communication. She was busy with running her restaurant and the apartment building so he couldn’t blame her for not coming around much.  
   
He thought about writing Mickey a letter but Mandy refused to give him a mailing address or even deliver it to him personally. He didn’t pester her too much since she had said repeatedly it was better for him to wait, and considering she had been right about most things lately, he didn’t object. It was hard to have patience but It was time for him to put in the effort for Mickey who always did everything for him, and he knew that this took time.  
   
Today though was different. Something about this day especially felt undeniably perfect. He was up at sunrise and it was the first time in weeks he had felt normal and content. Time was officially up, and he was ready to find Mickey. His patience was gone and he couldn’t spend another night thinking, reflecting, imagining or hoping. It was time to make it a reality. He was ready to see him and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. It was already much over-due.  
   
He heard the fridge open from the kitchen. He hoped it was Mandy since he had a bone to pick with her. He ran down the stairs.  
   
"Hey." He said, entering the kitchen, the aroma of bacon hitting him suddenly. "Smells good."  
   
Both Lip and Mandy were there, acknowledging his entrance and smiling. "Hey." Mandy flipped some pancakes in the pan. "Are you hungry?"  
   
 "Yeah, I’m starving. You’re off today?" He asked.   
   
She nodded. “Yeah. Thank god. Your sister has been working my ass lately.”  
   
“So you get up at the crack of dawn to make half the shit they serve at Patsy’s anyway?” He stole a piece of bacon, taking a bite.  
   
“I said the same thing. Nothing makes for a good day off quite like working.” Lip teased her. He took a bite from a pancake. Lip met his eyes, the blue shimmering in the sun from the kitchen window. “You look good. You feel good?" He asked him.  
   
“I'm feeling good, man. I really am." Ian looked at him thoughtfully, smiling.  
   
"Good. That's really good. You stay straight this time. Gay, but straight. You know." He threw a piece of pancake at him and they both laughed. There was a clear common bond between them that could never be broken. He could see the look of relief in his brother's eyes. It was obvious he was happy he had finally made the right decision and started taking care of himself. Lip was unaware that Mickey was back in Chicago and he made Mandy absolutely swear she wouldn’t say a word. It was something he wanted to reveal on his own, when he was ready. Besides, he had no idea how everything was going to pan out so it was something he wanted to keep quiet between him and his best friend.  
   
Today he felt remarkably confident and had no doubt that he was ready to see him.  
   
He walked over to Mandy leaning in her ear apprehensively.   
   
"Can I talk to you for a sec?" He whispered.  
   
She flipped her last pancake, adding it to the stack on the plate next her to. She turned her head rapidly in his direction. "What? What is it? Is everything okay?" Her face was stricken with concern.  
   
"Yes, relax, okay? Everything is fine. Like, really fine this time. I just need to talk to you." He glanced over at Lip who was staring at them questionably.  
   
She put down the spatula. "Okay, shoot." She said, placing her hands on her hips which reminded him scarcely of Fiona.  
   
He stared at Lip again. "In private." He couldn’t have made it anymore obvious if he tried. They turned their heads towards him in unison, staring.  
   
Lip put his hands up in surrender. "Girl talk, I get it."  
   
He grabbed her arm gently pulling her into the living room, watching as Lip walked up the stairs and making sure he was out of sight.  
   
"What's up?" She asked.  
   
"Well,” He took a deep breath, preparing his words. “I’ve been doing good  
lately and today I feel really great. The best I’ve felt in weeks, actually.”  
   
She nodded, clearly agreeing. “You are. I can tell. I’m really proud of you.” He couldn’t help him envisioning Fiona standing before him.  
   
 _Just say it._ He thought. _Just fucking say it._

“We should go do something today. Something fun. Don’t say go for a run though because I’m not doing—“  
   
“I need to go see Mickey. I can’t wait any longer.” He spoke so fast he wondered if she understood him.  
   
She thought about it for a few moments, a sly grin creeping up on her face. "Oh my god, yes! Finally. We should totally go. We can plan to go up there tomorrow but you better prepare yourself—"  
   
"No. Not happening." He shook his head. "I'm going right now. Like, right now.” He made a motion with his index finger pointing towards ground.  
   
She stared at him. "Right now? Well shit... I'm coming too. We can go right after breakfast. I’ll send him a text to let him know we’re coming because he needs to clean that shithole—"  
   
He sighed in annoyance. "Mandy, no. Please don't be Fiona right now. I need to do this by myself and you’re not telling him anything because I kind of feel like I should show up unannounced. I don’t want him to know I’m coming. Don't fight me on it. Just give me the address." Not only did he want to go by himself for obvious reasons but he didn’t know whether or not Mandy should really be present to witness what could potentially happen after their long awaited reunion.  
   
She didn’t respond.

He stepped closer towards her, lowering his voice. “I’ve spent three weeks cooped up in my room, taking my meds, dealing with you and Lip up my ass all day and I’ve done everything I need to do to prepare myself for this moment. You said yourself that I owed it to him. Now it’s my chance for the hard work to pay off. I’m ready, Mandy.”

There was a long pause before she pulled out her phone. He knew she wasn't going to challenge him on it. "I texted it to you." She said. Her tone was short and irritable but her face transformed into a delicate smile. "Is this really happening?" 

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s time. It’s been way too long.”

She jumped on him, wrapping her arms around his wide shoulders into a warm embrace.  
   
\-----------------------  
   
Ian looked at himself in the bathroom mirror spraying some fresh smelling cologne of Lip's. He watched him pass by the bathroom in the reflection before stepping back and looking at him.  
   
"Is that my cologne?" He asked curiously.  
   
He put the bottle back nervously almost knocking over the rest of the toiletries on the shelf. "Uh, yeah. I just took a few squirts. I left mine at Trevor’s and I’m probably not getting that back anytime soon." He laughed awkwardly. He watched Lip's eyebrows turn as he sized him up and down.  
   
"Where are you going looking so sharp? Not another pastor speech at the church altar I hope." He snickered.  
   
He stuttered, buttoning the cuffs of his shirt. "No. God, no. I... I have something... Uh... Important to take care of." He quickly exited the bathroom hoping Lip wasn't following. He was.  
   
Ian could feel his eyes studying him. "That's a fucking long sleeved dress shirt. It's hotter than hell out there."  
   
Mandy walked in the room. "Leave him alone, Lip. We've been up his ass for weeks, let the guy live a little."  
   
He shook his head. Ian turned to face Mandy about to ask her for an opinion on his appearance, but Debs voice rang loudly in his ear.  
   
"Have you seen my teal—" She stopped midsentence. Like Lip she sized Ian up, smiling widely with a look of awe. "Woah, you look good! I haven’t seen you dressed like this in months! Where are you off to? You got a date? Not with Trevor, right?"  
   
"Jesus! Does anybody mind their own damn business in this house?" He walked past the door nudging Debbie before flying down the stairs, Mandy following behind him.  
   
He heard Debs shouting from the top of the stairway. "Jesus, is anybody ever nice in this house?!"  
   
He walked into the living room, grabbing a tall brown paper bag next to the couch. "I found this in Fiona’s room so I’m stealing it. I know he's like a drunk right now or whatever but I didn't know what else to bring and I figured it was better than beer or hard stuff. I can’t really pronounce the name but—" He glanced at Mandy who appeared to be holding in her laughter. "Oh come on, what?"  
   
"You’ve got to be joking. A bottle of wine? For Mickey?” She was laughing now.  
   
He suddenly felt stupid. “Shit… You’re right. What the fuck am I thinking? Here.” He tossed it on the couch. “You and Debbie have it. I’m losing my mind a little here. I’m just really fucking nervous.” He straightened his shirt out and flattened his hair. "Do I look okay?" He asked anxiously.  
   
She took a step back and he watched desperately as she analyzed him. He felt unbelievably relieved by her impressed smile. "You look sexy as fuck!"  
   
He laughed and gave her another huge hug, holding her tightly. “Thanks for everything.” He said in her ear, pressing tighter. He had nothing but gratitude for her helping him get his life in order and making him come to terms with himself. The way she had been there for him and the rest of his family over the years was something he could never thank her enough for.  
   
“You know I love you.” She interrupted their hug suddenly, grabbing his face with her hands. "And don’t say I didn’t warn you. He's a total disaster. A fucking wreck."  
   
"My Mickey? A disaster?' He said sarcastically. "No really, I get it. It’s nothing I can’t handle. He needs me.”  
   
"Alright." She reached for his hand and gave him a squeeze of comfort. "Now, what are you waiting for?! Go get your man." She winked.  
 


	6. He’s Waiting For Me.

  
**Ian's perspective.**

_This can’t be the right house._ Ian thought, approaching the door to the address Mandy had given him. He wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. It was barely noon and Lip was right, it was hot as fuck out. He stood at the foot of the cement stairs, looking up at the grey painted house before him. He checked the address three times already just to be sure he had made it to the right door. He was expecting to be brought to a shack or a shabby rundown apartment. Maybe even an abandoned crack house. He looked around him at people passing by. There was a group of kids at the end of the block racing on their bikes, while more were on the other end of the street playing basketball. The busyness of the city streets were loud and active today. The sound of an ambulance siren echoed in the background. He watched as an elderly woman on the sidewalk walked her dog. Ian thought he could probably ask her if he was at the right house. He was second guessing himself. Before he approached her she had already noticed him, taking a step back and putting her hand on her chest.

"Oh my!” She gasped. “Well aren't you handsome? You look all dressed up for a date." She smiled at him, her eyes were warm and welcoming.

He smiled back, looking down at her dog who was peeing on the bush right beside her. Some of the urine sprinkled onto her pink slippers. She didn't seem to notice. 

"Thank you." He smiled back at her nearly blushing. He stared down at his phone. "Can you tell me, is this the right address? This house?"

She scooted to his phone, pinched the frame of her glasses and read slowly, whispering to herself. She nodded. "Yep. That's the one. The man is never home, though." She looked up at him, squinting in speculation. His stomach dropped as he realized this was final confirmation and was indeed the correct place.

"Great, thank you so much." He decided not to comment on her remark.

"You're welcome sweetie. And by the way, she is one lucky lady." She patted his shoulder.

He laughed uncomfortably as she shuffled away. He turned back towards the house and stared at it pensively. He took a deep breath and began walking up to the stairs but stopped himself. He turned back immediately and headed back towards the sidewalk, now pacing. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, lighting up and still pacing nervously. The early Summer sun beamed down on his forehead. He was really sweating now. His phone rang in his pocket. He was so skittish the ringtone made him jump. He pulled his phone out and answered.

"Hello?" 

Mandy's voice was excited on the other side of the line. "Are you there yet?"

He sighed impatiently. "I just got here. I'm outside smoking."

"So are you going to go in or what?"

"Are you going to call me again or what?" This was the third time since he had left the house.

"Get your ass in there!" Beep beep beep. She hungup.

Ian was puffing his cigarette like it was the last one he would ever smoke. He stopped his pacing and looked up to the top window. It was wide open and appeared to have no screen on it. If Mickey was in that room, had he heard him talking to the old woman or his phone conversation with Mandy? He looked away suddenly, scared that he would randomly pop out of nowhere and catch him staring. This sent him in a wave of anxiety. 

He couldn’t quite comprehend that just beyond that door, somewhere in that house, Mickey was in there. He was really there. He continued pacing again.

 _I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this._ His mind was racing and he was so extremely nervous he thought he was going to be sick. He made it back to the steps, leaning on the railing, holding his gut and sweating so profusely he thought he saw drops fall from his forehead. The feeling was so intense he had to sit down on the very first step, panting in complete distress. He didn’t realize his nerves would be this high, hitting him like a freight train. He assumed he would practically be ripping the door down within a matter of seconds. He stood up, attempting to shake it off, flattening his shirt and taking several deep, calming breaths. It was now or never. His stomach was still doing nauseating flips as he turned around, facing the door and began walking up the remaining steps. He finally came to the last one holding his arm out and preparing himself to knock. He tried his best to ignore the butterflies in the pit of his insides. For some reason knocking didn’t seem right anymore. He reached for the brass handle, feeling the coolness on the tip of his fingers. One more deep breath. He turned the handle and opened it slowly. He was in a bit of shock that the door wouldn’t be locked. It creaked loudly as He poked his head in cautiously. He found himself in a small entry way, a long staircase directly in front of him. He studied the walls surrounding him. The paint was chipping in certain spots and there was what looked like a giant brown tinted wet spot on the side of the stairs. There were articles of clothing scattered all over the steps along with a full garbage bag overfilling with beer cans. There was a stench in the air of spilt liquor and stale smoke which reminded him of the Milkovich’s old house. 

Now that he had made it inside there was no going back. He shut the door behind him lightly. He had an unavoidable feeling he should walk up the stairway. He continued, taking each step at his own leisurely pace. Every time his foot firmly pressed on a step it cracked loudly. He winced with each creak. He kept going until he reached the final step. He looked around, studying the environment around him. Directly to his right there was what appeared to be a bathroom with towels piled on the floor. To his left, a bedroom. The door was cracked. He heard shuffling and the twist of a bottle cap opening. He twitched, his heart pounding rapidly. He found himself feeling sick again. He pushed open the door, peering inside.

There he was, sitting across from the window. The love his life. His savior. His soul mate.

It was that very instant that Ian's whole world shifted from an unpredictable chaotic disaster to an absolute comfortable normality. It was like the lose ends of his heart that had been frayed for so long suddenly fused together in the most amazing, beautiful, harmonious way.

He wasn't sure what to say or if he could even form any words but he got the courage to be heard.

"Hey, Mick."


	7. Time Stood Still.

  
**Mickey's perspective.**

Mickey practically fell of his chair, jumping in shock while processing the voice he just heard. The same calming voice that sent chills down his spine and the very same voice that once broke his heart. Though it had been so long since he had heard it, it rang in his ears melodically like a symphony of an awaited return. 

He managed to collect himself only enough to turn around and face him. 

There he was, standing before him. 

“Sorry I’m late.” Ian said timidly. 

His vision was blurring as uncontrollable tears formed unexpectedly, escaping slowly from his eyes and trickling down his face. This was the moment he had dreamt of for months now and he wished he was more prepared but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Time around him had stopped immediately and he was unsure if it would ever continue. His heart was skipping in palpitations and he tried to absorb what was truly happening, what he was actually witnessing before his eyes. He could hardly catch his breath and with each exhale he felt he might pass out. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t miss a single second of life as long as Ian was in his presence. He stared in his eyes filling his sight with every detail of his beautiful body. He didn’t know whether to respond verbally or surrender himself in a psychical embrace. Either way he couldn’t move even if he tried. He was stuck in place, his mouth halfway open in disbelief. 

Ian hadn’t moved either and Mickey watched as his dark green eyes were also filled with tears, beads running down his freckled cheeks. The energy between them was so intense that he could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise. He kept staring, taking every inch of him. He was bigger than before and his arms were nearly popping out of his purple button up shirt. If it was any tighter it would tear at the seams. He looked unbelievably sexy to him, even more than before which he didn’t think was possible. The extremely agonizing desire to feel his warmth was excruciating. The vibes they were exchanging were almost hypnotic and he felt he could spend the rest of his life there, staring into his eyes. 

He began a word but he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say. His mind was completely numb as he attempted to speak. “I...” He stuttered and couldn’t concentrate. “I... You...” it was useless. Nothing was making sense but at the same time everything was clicking into place. 

Ian suddenly was making his way towards him and he felt his stomach drop in excitement. He came closer; once he approached him his hands extended gradually. He touched the back of his head, cradling it gently and that’s when he knew it was over. Mickey closed the gap, their lips hitting one another’s fiercely. The earth shook as his warm tongue entered his mouth eagerly. The taste of him alone was enough to make him melt and become unavoidably excited. His mouth was sweet just like he remembered. He placed his hands on him, running them along his abdomen and up to his chest. He could smell him now and this only increased his arousal, a sense of longing hitting him with a great force. They continued kissing in a perfectly synchronized motion. His tongue was teasing Ian’s now, leading him in and out of his mouth. It had been too long since they last had an opportunity of passion and it was obvious it was much overdue. The chemistry between them was too strong to stop now and if they waited any longer he thought his equipment was going to burst with anticipation. 

He reached down for his belt, unbuckling it for him like his life depended on it. He seemed to be breathing fine now, exhaling deeply as he realized Ian would be inside him again. He removed his jeans, and then his shirt, returning the favor to his partner. He accidentally ripped a few buttons from Ian’s shirt but he could care less. There could be a lethal earthquake hitting the southside of Chicago and he wouldn’t have interrupted this long awaited reunion. Once undressed he turned around submissively, bending over the bed waiting for Ian to enter him. He felt his hands rest on his shoulders as he ran them down his back and onto to his rear, his fingertips tickling his skin causing a fleet of goosebumps all over his body. He could feel the shaft of his hard cock on him as he placed his hands on his hips, preparing to enter. He opened himself wider, making it easier for him to go in. The tip came in easy while the remaining length of his base slid in with some struggle. He winced slightly, and Ian could feel it, gently going in with a few slow and cautious thrusts. As he picked up some pace, the light pain subsided and Mickey lifted his head back in complete ecstasy. He felt Ian grab hips harder using them for guidance. He was going much faster now as he reached around, grabbing his cock and stroking him, returning his pleasure. He sat up slightly, smiling as he felt him lean over to kiss the side of his neck. He almost felt tears coming on as the overwhelming enjoyment ran through him, pumping hot in his veins. It was almost too much. He was both ecstatic and relieved that they were sharing this moment after such a painfully long wait. The lust and remarkable emotion was so profound he could hardly keep it together. 

It was so physically amazing that Mickey didn’t take long to climax. After a few more deep, nine inch thrusts inside of him he let out a moan of total relief, Ian doing the same. The orgasm had him pulsing rapidly and every nerve in his body was rising as he felt Ian’s cock throbbing inside of him. They both remained there for a moment trying to collect themselves until Ian slid out slowly. He collapsed on the bed as Ian joined him. It was the most intense love making session they had shared since they had began exchanging it many years back.

“How about an after fuck smoke, just like old times?” Mickey smiled, facing him. They laughed. There was much to be discussed and so much stuck on his mind but it was always comforting to revert back to their simple, light hearted banter. The comfortability they shared between one another was special. 

Ian lit up, taking a few drags before passing it to him. “That was... so fucking good.” He sighed. 

Mickey turned towards him, placing his hand on the side of his face and tenderly stroking with his thumb. “God I fucking missed you.” His voice was breaking. The whole experience was emotional and borderline unreal to him. 

They laid there together for awhile, Mickey reaching for his hand and intertwining his fingers with his. He noticed Ian didn’t break his stare once. 

“I love you.” He said it with conviction and Mickey could almost hear his heart rate increase. 

He had waited too long to hear those words.


	8. Exposure.

  
**Ian's perspective.**

“I hate to say it but you look horrible.” Ian passed Mickey his cigarette. They were both laying in bed nude with nothing but sheets wrapped around their exhausted bodies. Ian had so much on his mind, but it was nice to sit in a comfortable silence, just enjoying his presence. After seeing every inch of Mickey’s body again, he couldn’t help but notice there wasn’t as much to grip in his hands and he had lost a considerable amount of weight. He had never seen him this thin. His facial hair had grown significantly and his eyes were glazed over like hadn’t been getting enough sleep. He was worried but wanted to tread lightly on the subject; the last thing he wanted was to ruin this long awaited time together.

“Thanks. I was going to say you look fucking huge.” He said, staring him up and down.

He smiled at him, winking playfully. “You’ve said that before.” He watched as Mickey tried to hold back a smile but failed miserably.

“Shut the hell up.” He nudged him.

“There wasn’t much to do in jail but work out.” He went to put his cigarette out in the ashtray on the end table beside him. He knocked over some pill bottles in the process. He glanced over and saw what looked like residue from crushed up pills. He grabbed one of the bottles. “Vicodin? Really?” 

Mickey flashed him a guilty look, his eyes avoiding Ian’s. 

He sat up at the side of the bed, looking around the room. He was so distracted with Mickey he didn’t seem to observe much of anything around him yet. He saw bottles upon bottles of liquor, as well as beer cans accompanied by more pill bottles. He leaned over, picking up a few more. “Percocet, oxycodone, vallum.” He listed them off before turning around, expecting an explanation.

He didn’t respond. He stared blankly at the wall as if he didn’t hear him.

“Don’t ignore me. What the fuck, Mick? Is this what you do all day, take pills and drink?” He already knew the answers to these questions thanks to Mandy filling him in but he wanted to hear it from his mouth. 

He looked over at him instantaneously. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Ian’s eyes narrowed in question. “Why?”

He turned towards him dramatically, a very shocking look appearing on his face. “Gee, I fucking wonder.”

Ian threw the pill bottles on the bed. “It’s not healthy.” He said quietly.

“Yeah, no shit. This is my life now, all because of you. Hope you’re happy.” He ripped the sheet off of him irritably, standing up and reaching for an Old Style. 

Ian didn’t know how to respond to that statement. “You think seeing this shit makes me happy?”

“I don’t know what the fuck makes you happy. Last time I thought I knew what made you happy you drove me to the Mexican border and turned the fuck around.” He took a few gulps from the bottle.

“I never said you didn’t make me happy. I know you’re pissed at me and you have every reason to be pissed but for the record I couldn’t just throw away my whole life—”

He cut him off abruptly. “Couldn’t throw away you’re whole life for me, huh? Yeah sounds fucking crazy right?”

Ian continued. “I didn’t mean it like that. I had my shit together. I had my job, I had my head right, I had a stable living situation. I was—”

“You hear that nice little key word you’re using there? Had, as in you had all of those things before. Then you started worshipping homo Jesus and went to jail and lost everything, so really nothing mattered in the end anyway. You could’ve went with me and been fine but that wasn’t you anymore, right? Fucking bullshit.”

Ian decided not to comment on his Gay Jesus remark. He was too embarrassed. “Well at the time things were going good for me. Yeah, I went to jail and shit kind of hit the fan but I was at a good place in my life. Did you expect me to never have a life without you?”

“No, I expected you to have one with me. I don’t know if you remember when you went psycho or you just pretend like you don’t but I was by your side the whole fucking time and took care of you from the fucking get-go and you pissed it all away. You went and ran away with your deranged mom and she got in your head and convinced you I was shit, when in reality I was the best fucking thing for you. Admit it.” Ian heard his voice break a little. He remembered Mandy’s motivational speech on how Mickey was good for him and it contained many of the same words.

“I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry, Mick. I could say it a hundred times. I got my shit right for you. I’m better now, and I’ve got my meds balanced. I did it for you. Also you don’t have to worry about my deranged mom anymore. She died. ”

Mickey turned his head. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He sipped more beer. “How’d that happen?”

“We can talk more about it later. And I’m sorry. You don’t have to forgive me but at least I’m here now.” He scooted over towards him, kissing his shoulder he sweetly. “I don’t like seeing you like this. It hurts. You don’t need to do a bunch of fucking pills.” He whispered.

He nodded, laughing sarcastically. “You wrecked me, man. You know, you of all people really shouldn’t be telling me what pills to take.”

“I’m telling you not to take any.” Said Ian confidently. 

“My how the tables have fucking turned Gallagher! I used to have to force you take your pills and now here you are telling me to take none.” 

Ian was unamused by his boastful tone. He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a fucking dick. Excuse me for caring.”

“You? Caring? Sorry, that’s a weird feeling coming from you that I’m not really used to.” He slammed his beer bottle on the end table.

The sarcasm and slander was never lacking with him. Ian ignored it, leaning over past him to grab a beer for himself. He returned to his spot on the other side of the bed.

“You know,” Mickey started. “Don’t think this is all sunshine and butterflies. This is all I do, this is all I can do. I can’t leave, I can’t go make money, I can’t even run down to the store to get smokes. One wrong move and I’m back in the slammer for life. This is it. It’s only a matter of time before you get bored of my shit and leave again.” He reached for some white pills sitting on the table, getting ready to pop them in his mouth. Ian shoved his hand out of the way causing them to sprinkle all over the floor. 

“What the fuck, Ian?!” He watched as he went to go retrieve them but he held him down to prevent him from getting up. Mickey turned over attempting to put him in a choke hold but Ian pinned him to the bed with ease while he tried to escape his restrain. It was clear to Ian he couldn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as he used to. In the past he was easily an even fight for him but now he was smaller, weaker and no competition, especially since Ian had grew so much muscle mass.

He stared into his eyes with deep concern. “No more pills.” He started to nudge him off. “I’m serious.” He followed his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah I hear you.” He brushed him off. “Not like you’re going to be around anyways.”

He looked at him, squinting. “What’s that mean?”

“You have to go home eventually. What, you going to move all you’re shit in this dump?” He snickered before the bottle hit his lips again.

“Uhm…” He gave him a look of stupidity. “Yeah, I was actually. You think I’m letting you out of my sight? Nice try.”

Mickey failed again at hiding a grin. “You serious?”

Ian could feel Mickey’s happiness which in turn made him smile. “As a heart attack. You took care of me, I’m going take care of you.”

“Yeah well, don’t hate me for having a hard time to believing that.” He smirked.

“I don’t blame you. I’ll prove it.” He put his hand on his face and gave him a harmless smack on his cheek.

They continued talking and drinking until the late evening.


	9. Let Me Take Care of Him.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***I have absolutely no medical knowledge or how long it takes to recover from almost ODing so I tried my best! I understand there are a ton of obvious plot holes but bare with me, This is my first fanfic story!!***

  
**Mickey’s perspective.**

They spent most of the night retelling stories from the past and laughing about “old times.” Every moment he spent with Ian he loved and the last thing he wanted to do was leave his side. They discussed a lot of different subjects: His time in Mexico, Iggy buying a house and leaving to Florida, even Ian’s church speeches, which he didn’t seem very happy describing

There was a few things Mickey left unsaid. He didn’t want to turn the moment sour and decided it was best to keep certain secrets to himself at this point in time. There was enough tension of the past between them already. 

They both had more than enough beer and even a few shots of Jack Daniels after Mickey convinced him to drink with him. They were considerably drunk and the room became more foggy as they chain smoked.  
   
His phone rang for the fifth time in an hour. He picked it up, checking who was calling. “Jesus Christ is Mandy ever going to stop calling me?” He threw it on the ground.  
   
Ian sighed. “She’s been calling me too, all damn day. She just wants to know how it’s going. She’s excited for us, I think.”  
   
He scoffed. “I’m about to send a picture of your cock in my ass to let her know how the fuck it’s going.”  
   
Ian laughed loudly. “Okay, how about we not scare her. I kind of feel bad. I’ll call her in a little bit.” He took another gulp from the bottle of Jack next to him. “Hey, you want to take a shower?” Ian asked him.  
   
Mickey wasn’t sure he heard him right. “A shower?” He asked.  
   
Ian shrugged. “Yeah, why not? Couples take showers together. I think it would do you some good anyways.”  
   
Mickey got up, stumbling. “Oh, so we’re a couple now?”  
   
He didn’t answer him and watched as he got up from the bed, walking across the hall into the bathroom. He studied his naked body, feeling excited as he followed. He stopped. Something caught his eye.  
   
“Woah, woah, woah! Hold up.” He shouted. Ian turned around.  
   
“What?”  
   
He began walking over, slightly tripping on his feet but he caught his balance. “Did I just see what I think I just saw? I can’t be that wasted.” He walked over to Ian grabbing his shoulders, turning him to face the wall. “Can you explain to me why you have a fucking pair of tits on your back!?”  
   
Ian shrugged his hands off of him, clearly embarrassed. He exhaled in aggravation. “I got this tattoo for my Monica thinking it would be her name and the dude gave me a pair of tits instead” It seemed like it wasn’t the first time he had to recite this. Mickey broke out in hysterics. “Yeah, yeah laugh it up. It’s real funny.”  
   
Mickey could barely keep it together. He held his stomach, the laughter tightening in his ribs. “Oh, fuck. That is some funny shit.” He took a few deep breaths. “Tell me again why you shouldn’t have come with me to Mexico? At least you wouldn’t have tits on your back.”  
   
He watched Ian look down at his chest pointing to it. “At least I didn’t spell your name—” He stopped, leaning closer to the tattoo Mickey had of his name. “Woah, you got it fixed!” He exclaimed.  
   
Mickey nodded, feeling proud. “Yeah, I got it touched up, too. You like it?” He stuck his tongue out slightly.  
   
He chuckled. “Yeah, I do. It looks way better.”  
   
Mickey leaned over the shower, starting the water, hearing his phone ringing again in the distance. They were both already naked so they stepped in, Mickey going first. 

There was a moment of awkwardness as they both adjusted their bodies in such a limited space, but after some shifting and maneuvering they managed to find the right stance. Mickey watched as Ian picked up the soap and then made some kind of joke about dropping it. He started to wash him and he couldn’t help but feel flattered. It was an experience he never had with anyone before and he was loving it.

“What other dumb shit did you get into while I was gone?” He asked. He would never admit it but he thoroughly enjoyed being pampered by him.

Ian spoke as he kept washing. “Not much, really. Worked with homeless kids which was a challenge but rewarding.”

“You bang a lot of dudes?” He followed Ian’s eyes until they met his. He stared back at him skeptically. 

“Not a lot, no. I was in a relationship most of the time you were gone. I told you I had a boyfriend.” He said simply.

Mickey scowled. “Yeah you told me you had a boyfriend, meaning a male, meaning a dude with a dick. Not some curly headed fuck with a mustache and a pussy between his legs.”

“How do you know about Trevor?” He asked.

“Mandy.” They said in unison but in completely different tones. 

“And he doesn’t have a mustache.” Ian said defensively. 

“I don’t give a fuck. Last time I checked you liked ass fucking boys not boys who were born girls.”

Ian stopped washing. “Would you calm down? Trevor is transgender. It was a weird time in my life, okay? I thought it was right but it didn’t work out. Give me a break.”

Mickey laid off. He didn’t want to upset him. There was a long pause as Ian continued washing him at his own pace, going over his neck and back with a wash cloth. 

“You going to be my nurse now? Bathe me and shit?” Mickey asked, a small smile on his face but waiting for a legitimate response. 

He looked back up at him. “You need help.” He moved the shower head so it would rinse the suds off his skin. “You’re in bad shape.” 

Mickey’s smile faded. He nodded in agreement. “I know. It’s been shitty.” His mind switched to somewhere dark for a few seconds. Before Ian could make his way down to his arms he grabbed the soap from him, making sure to avoid it at all costs. 

“My turn.” He said quickly turning his body around. 

There was no more comment on the subject of his hardships. After they had cleansed each other, he put his hands on Ian’s face, pulling him in for a kiss. It felt right, and he trusted his feelings. Ian’s response was compliant as Mickey felt him wrap his arms around his waist, kissing him back hard.

———-  
**Ian’s perspective.**

The next morning Ian woke up to Mickey in his arms, filling him with nothing but pure happiness. He peaked over at him, watching him sleep peacefully. He smiled, sitting up at the edge of the bed. 

“Oh, shit.” He said, grabbing his head in pain. It was pounding. He was well out of practice when it came to heavy drinking but he seemed to keep up with Mickey all night. Now, he regretted it. The sunlight was coming in from the bedroom window and he squinted as it burned his eyes. He moaned in dramatic agony. He stood up from the bed finding his boxers and putting them on, nearly falling over as he found his jeans. He was trying to be as quiet as he could possibly be. He began walking across the room and towards the door when one of the floor boards creaked. “Shit.” He whispered. 

“Where are you going?” He heard Mickey’s anxious yet sleepy voice suddenly behind him. He turned around and saw him sitting up in the bed, staring him down.

“Relax. I’m going downstairs to get you something to eat.” He said, walking up to him and giving him a caring kiss in the forehead. 

“From the kitchen? Don’t bother there ain’t shit down there.” He said. He belched loudly, reaching for a cigarette. He opened an empty pack, tossing it in the ground.

“Okay, then I’ll go and get a few things. Smokes, too. And...” He looked around the room, eyeing it in disgust. “Cleaning supplies wouldn’t hurt either.” 

Mickey shook his head. “I don’t have a penny to my fucking name—“

“Stop. Don’t worry about that.” He found his shoes, stretching and yawning before putting them on. He almost walked out of the room when Mickey’s worried voice spoke again. It was quiet. 

“You’re coming back?” He asked. His words were so heavy with sorrow he could feel his heart sink.

“Of course I’m coming back.” He smiled giving him a genuine look, hoping it was as convincing as he intended it to be.

————

Ian had a few grocery bags on him with the essentials. As much as he could carry, anyway. He was eager to get back and fix Mickey something to eat. He had lost what he thought was at least 20 pounds since he had last seen him. There were certain characteristics he had now that worried him. His lack of not only his appetite, but also little to no motivation. He knew he was in a funk and undoubtedly depressed but Ian thought he could help that. He was determined to change his state of mind and quality of life.  
   
He was approaching the house from the side walk when he saw a strange man walking from the door. For some reason his instincts told him to hide in some shrubs beside him. He tried to see his face but he was in a black hooded sweatshirt and the sun glare made it difficult. He watched the man get into his beater car and speed off. He waited until his car was clearly out of sight before speed walking up to the door, opening it and shutting it quickly.  
   
“Who was that guy?” He shouted from the base of the stairs so Mickey could hear him. There was no answer. He went into the kitchen putting the groceries on the table and dusting off the counter. It smelt of mildew and stale air. “I bought a couple of things to eat. Whiskey and beer isn’t much of a diet.” He began putting away some items. “Fuck, this place is disgusting.” He opened the fridge but slammed it shut. “Fucking gross.” He muttered to himself as he held his shirt over his nose, opening the fridge again and trying not to breath. Mickey still hadn’t responded. Maybe he was asleep? Regardless, he wanted to know who his company was and didn’t mind disturbing his sleep to ask.  
   
He walked up the stairs, entering the room. Before he could speak, he stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn’t believe what his eyes were actually seeing. He blinked a few times in disbelief. Suddenly the happy high Ian had been feeling for the last 24 hours had completely vanished in one instant. Mickey was laying spread out on the bed, his eyes rolled in the back of his head with a needle in his left hand and a belt around his arm. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” He ran over to the bed in a panic. “Mickey?” He put his ear over his heart, listening for a heartbeat. He tried to remain calm and use his skills he had acquired from his time as an EMT to walk him through the standard protocol. He had never treated anyone with an overdose and it was out of his skill set.

“No, no, no.” He whispered to himself. He was starting to go into a crisis mode, his hands shaking with fear. He listened to his heart again, trying to hear over the hard, drumming beats of his own. There was a lightly faint beat that was a relieving, but it was so slow that it was still unsettling. He reached for his phone in his pocket frantically, beginning to type 911. He stopped.  
   
_I can’t call 911 they’ll identify him and he’ll go back to jail._ He looked back down at him, smacking his face lightly for a few seconds before giving him one hard slap. The clapping sound echoed the room, leaving a huge imprint on his face. Nothing. “Fuck. Mickey? Mickey?!” He started crying, whimpering in desperation but tried to coach himself. “Fuck. What to I do?” He started breathing deeply. “Keep it together. Calm down.” He thought about calling Lip or Fiona since it was an emergency, but one last person popped into his head.  
   
A last resort.  
   
He didn’t know who else to call and he knew he couldn’t waste any more time. He continued dialing on his phone. He didn’t know what Sue could do for him but he knew the hospital wasn’t an option.  
   
 __________

“What are you giving him?” Ian asked desperately. He stood over Sue as he watched her sanitize Mickey’s arm, a syringe in her other hand. She was preparing to inject him with something. 

She didn’t answer. She worked quickly, searching for a vein.

“You can’t poke him. We can’t break the skin, we weren’t trained for that!” Ian shouted.  
   
She still didn’t respond. He watched as she found the right spot and inserted the needle. She pushed the clear liquid in his arm. A few moments passed, Ian shaking in complete fear, standing over him. He was trying to avoid the worst thought from coming in his head. She began moving him and he helped, sitting him upright on the bed.

She responded finally. He had never seen her look so angry, even that time he let the girl out of the ambulance by accident. “You’re right.” She said, removing her latex gloves. She walked over to him standing inches away from his face. “I’m not trained for that. Don’t ever, ever call me for this again. I could lose my job because of you, Gallagher. I’m not in private practice.” She returned the bed, checking his heart rate. “He’s picking back up. He’s stable now. He’ll wake back up in a few hours. I gave him a dose of Naloxone. It’s an opioid receptor that reverses an overdose. There’s a chance he wasn’t over dosing and just passed out but it could have but I couldn’t take that risk.” She started to put her jacket on. “Now it’s my turn for questions. Why couldn’t you just call 911 and leave me the hell alone? This is what you do now? Lead queer religious cults and shoot up dope?” She asked, raising her voice.

Ian shook his head. “No, I don’t do that. This is my boyfriend, Mickey and apparently he does hard drugs. He escaped from jail awhile ago and snuck back into the U.S from Mexico. If I called 911, he probably would have gone to prison." He was still shaking, walking over to the bed and resting his hand on Mickey’s arm. He looked down, just now noticing the tiny track marks spread across his arms. His eyes filled with tears.

“Thank you.” He turned to Sue who didn’t seem to look as mad anymore. 

She grabbed her medical supplies before leaving “Keep an eye on him. He should be fine soon. If he’s not, don’t call me. Call the paramedics.”

He heard her footsteps run down the stairs, and another pair ran up them. He turned around as Mandy came in, out of breath, her makeup smeared down her cheeks. He called her earlier when Sue was on the way..

“Oh my god.” She ran over to the side of the bed resting her hand on her brother’s face. “Oh my god.” She said again. She covered her mouth in horror. “Is he going to be okay?” 

Ian shrugged miserably. “I don’t know. She gave him some overdose rejection meds.” His tears began to fall. “By the way, thanks for mentioning he was shooting up fucking heroin. You kind of left that part out.” He yelled as he wiped his eyes.

Mandy shook her head. “Ian, I had no fucking idea. Do you really think I wouldn’t tell you? I was here last week and he wasn’t doing this shit. If he was, he hid it from me.” 

They both stared at him for awhile. Ian stood up and began pacing. It seemed to be a nervous habit he picked up.

“Once he’s better, if he’s better, we’re leaving this dump.” He glanced over at her. She was still staring down at Mickey, a look of shock apparent in her face. “We’re taking him to my house.” He said with conviction. 

“Your house? What about Lip, and Fiona—“ 

“Fuck them!” He yelled. “I don’t care what the say. He’s not staying here, where his fucking dealer can find him again. He’s going to my house. He’s going to get better there, out of this mess and away from this shithole.”

Mandy didn’t argue him. She sat there in silence.

Ian returned to the side of the bed, resting his head on his chest again.

His increasing heartbeat gave him an astonishing sense of relief. He kept his head there, crying quietly as Mandy held his hand.


	10. Fire & Ice.

  
Ian wanted to wait until Mickey woke up before leaving but he didn’t want to spend another second in that scum infested house. He carried Mickey on his back from the Uber ride that Mandy called for. He lost track of how many times he frantically checked his heart rate making sure he was still alive. It seemed to slowly be rising but he was still unconscious. He walked him up the porch stairs, Mandy following behind them. She rushed in front of them to open the door and they stepped in carefully. Ian was hoping no one was home but the chances of that were slim. Just as he thought, Debbie was on the couch watching TV, Franny sleeping in her arms. “Hey guys.” She said. “Hi Ian, where have you been?”  
  
“Hey…” Mandy said quietly. Ian ignored her. “You got him?” She asked him as they continued up the stairs.  
  
He was breathing heavy but it wasn’t putting any strain on him. It was now that Mickey’s threatening weight loss had actually been beneficial. He was light and easy to carry, even with his dead weight. He heard Debs voice from the bottom of the stairs again.   
  
“Who is that?” Ian still didn’t respond. “Okay, fine! Ignore me.”  
  
They made it up to their room where Ian gently placed him on his bed, propping his head up on his pillow. He had some odd fear of him vomiting and fatally choking on his puke so he made sure his head was up right. He sat next to him, rubbing his face. “Mick?” He got closer, pulling open an eyelid. There was still no response and no sign of it at this point. He checked his pulse again which seemed to be normal.   
  
“You think he’s just going to sleep the whole night?” Mandy asked.  
  
“I have no idea.” He said hopelessly.   
  
He heard the refrigerator door shut from the kitchen down stairs, followed by footsteps jogging up them. He knew automatically by the rhythm of the steps who it was. He glanced back at Mandy.   
  
“Hey, where were you all night—“ he stopped mid-sentence and Ian watched as Lip’s stare fell on Mickey. “Is that... Mickey?” He physically walked over to where he was laying and leaned in closer to identify him.   
  
Ian didn’t say anything and neither did Mandy. He had prepared himself for this battle and wasn't going to lose it. “Yeah. That’s Mickey.” He said quietly, not meeting his eyes.   
  
“Dude, Ian what the fuck? I thought he was in Mexico?” He could feel his stare on him.   
  
He finally looked up. “Yeah, he was. He came back for me. Look, it’s a long story that I really don’t feel like explaining right now. It’s not the time.”  
  
Lip scoffed at him. “Well you need to make time. Why is he here? Is he sleeping?” He leaned over to him again, looking at his closed eyes.  
  
Ian was done talking about it. Mandy chimed in. “He almost had a drug overdose, Lip. He’s doing heroin and needs our help.”  
  
Lip shot them both looks of stupidity but was mostly looking at Ian. “Okay wait, so you bring Mickey Milkovich who’s wanted by the feds, and now high on dope, back into this house?”  
  
Ian still didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to.   
  
“Ian!” He shouted. “Fiona’s going to flip! Get him out of here!”  
  
He stood up, towering over his brother. “Fuck Fiona! He has nowhere to go!”  
  
“Too bad! What the fuck is wrong with you? You leave for one fucking night and come home with your drug induced, fed dodging ex-boyfriend?” Ian didn’t expect him to react this negatively.  
  
There was more steps running up the stairs. Debbie stormed in.  
  
“What’s going on in here?” Her eyes instantly fell on Mickey. “Woah, is that—?”  
  
Her cut her off. “He needs my help. He’s fucking sick, okay?”  
  
“He needs your help? Fuck that, he can help himself.” He said assertively.   
  
“Oh, like how helped myself when I was sick?” He walked towards Lip, standing close and pointing towards Mickey’s inactive body. “He’s the only one who took care of me when I needed him. Don’t tell me what the fuck to do. He’s staying here and if you don’t like it you can leave.” There was a moment of intense silence as they both stared in each other’s eyes. Ian wasn’t backing down. “You got sober and you fixed yourself—“   
  
“Yeah I did it on my own! I didn’t have help. And I wasn’t wanted by the FBI, dumbass!” His face was turning red and a vein bulged out from the side of his neck.   
  
“Well good thing he has some support! Didn't you learn about that in AA? You know, support from family? I love him and he has nowhere to go and I’m not just abandoning him." He almost finished the sentence with the word "again" but he tried to focus on the issue at hand rather than jumping to other problems. "I thought you of all people would get it.” He turned away from him now, looking back at Mickey.   
  
“Fine. Your life. Your circus, your fucking monkey.” He stormed out, running down the stairs, followed by the front door slamming.  
  
“He’ll come around eventually.” Said Mandy obviously trying to diffuse the situation.   
  
Debbie was still standing there, looking at Mickey curiously. “What’s wrong with him?” She asked.  
  
“He almost overdosed from shooting up.” Ian said, putting his hands in his head, fidgeting stressfully. “Debs, can you give us a sec, please?” He asked. She didn’t say anything. She took one more glance at Mickey and made an exit.   
  
He turned to Mandy. “Do you know the guy that gave him drugs today?”  
  
She shook her head fiercely. “No, no clue. It might be one of Iggy’s friends. I’m not sure.”  
  
“Well whoever the fuck he is I’m deleting his contact out of his phone. He’s not fucking anything else up.” He looked up at ceiling in desperation, putting his arms up over his head. “Heroin? Like, really? The booze I can handle, and the pills aren’t good either... but... heroin? Anything but this.”   
  
“I warned you. I told you was bad. I didn’t know it was this bad, though.” Mandy said glumly. “I don’t get it. How could he go that low?” He shook his head.   
  
“Ian, you fucked him up. He doesn't have much to look forward to anymore. It's either life in prison or staying under the radar forever. That’s his life. On top of that he’s been away from you, which is why this all happened in the first place. Well, it's not like his life was that stellar before this either but he has nothing now.” She looked over at Mickey but returned her eyes to Ian’s. “It sounds cheesy but you were the only light in his life.”  
  
“I didn’t want this. If I would have known this was his fate I would have drove that fucking car across the border, no questions asked.” He said, as more tears began streaming down his face.  
  
“You and I both.” She walked over, sitting next to him.  
  
“I don’t get it. He’s back now, and I’m here. I can still be the light in his life.” He sobbed lightly.   
  
She sighed. “It’s been a day. One day, Ian. Sometimes love isn’t strong enough to beat drugs like this. You probably don’t remember, but when you were on one of your psychotic breaks, Mickey didn’t understand it. It took him a long time to get it. This is something you don’t understand.” She put his arm around him. “He's all we have now but we'll help him. We’ll get through this.” She leaned her head on his shoulder at they both looked down at Mickey.  
  
“When did you get so good at giving advice?” He asked, sniffling.  
  
“Since my best friend went psycho and my brother became a junkie, I guess.” She shrugged.  
  
They sat there for a few moments observing him in his comatosive state. Suddenly, Ian felt his hand moving slightly. He looked down. It wasn’t Mandy’s. His eyes shifted to Mickey. He was moving a little, squinting eyes as he tried to break them open. He let out a low groan, his hand covering his eyes. He turned his body from his side to his back. “Fuck…” He muttered, rubbing his eyes.  
  
Ian almost fell of his seat in excitement but kept his tone low. “Mickey? Hey. How’re you feeling?”  
  
He opened his eyes wider now looking up at them in confusion. “Where…” He looked around him. “Where the fuck are we? Mandy?”  
  
“Hey, Mick.” She said sweetly.  
  
“We’re at my house. Are you okay?” Ian could barely keep calm. “Do you need anything?”  
  
“Beer.” He mumbled. Ian wasn’t sure he understood him. He looked at Mandy, then back at him again. “Beer. I need beer. Right now. And a cigarette.” Ian felt like rolling his eyes but restrained. He was relieved he was at least acting like himself.  
  
“How about water?” Mandy said, getting up to go retrieve some.   
  
He was trying to sit upright but failed. He looked drowsy and fatigued. Ian laid his hand on his chest, stroking it softly. He was so completely overjoyed that he was conscious but knew he had to treat him carefully. Mandy was back, handing him a glass of water. He grabbed it from her, almost dropping it but Ian held it up for him.  
  
He drank the entire thing in three giant gulps. “Why are we here?”  
  
“Well for starters you decided it was a super awesome idea to shoot heroin in your arm and you passed out. I had to call my old co-worker to come resuscitate you. Good thing she did.” Ian grabbed the glass, setting it on the dresser.   
  
“Yeah, fucking fantastic.” He said, reaching in his pockets looking for a smoke.   
  
“How about thanks for saving my life?” Said Ian, suddenly wanting to punch him. He hated his attitude.   
  
“No one asked you to.” He said, grabbing a cigarette that Mandy was handing to him.   
  
“Oh okay, so I should have just let you die, right?” Mickey didn’t answer him. He searched Ian’s dresser for a lighter, finding one and sparking. He took a long drag before exhaling the smoke, rubbing his eyes again.   
  
There was a long pause but Ian wasn’t going to end their conversation without answers. “How long have you been doing this?”  
  
“Doing what?” He asked, ashing into an empty beer bottle.   
  
“Uh, shooting up H you fucking idiot.” Ian was getting irritated.  
  
He shrugged “A few weeks.” He noticed Mickey hadn’t met his eyes once since he woke up from his mini heroin coma.   
  
“A lot?” He asked, following his icey blues watching at they avoided his. “How many times a day?!” He yelled. Mandy jumped.   
  
“I don’t know! Like three. Maybe four.” His voice trailed off.   
  
Ian laughed in insanity. “Oh, great. So you’re hooked. You’re fucking addicted.” He kept his stare on him. “What if I wasn’t there? You could have died! I couldn’t—“ his voice started breaking but he continued. “I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.”  
  
Mickey stared down at the ground, looking ashamed like a dog that needed scolding.   
  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ian asked finally. That was the real question he wanted an answer to. "Huh?" It was clear to him that Mickey didn't want to discuss anything about the subject, but he didn't care.  
  
“Excuse the fuck out if me for not telling you that minor detail that could ruin our whole night together. It’s not something I really wanted to just casually mention.” He turned his head, his eyes finally meeting his. He couldn't help but notice his pupils which were the size of needles. The look on his face was so sharp he almost had to look away. “Why should I have told you? Huh? Why? So you could get scared and run off like you did before? Fucking classic Gallagher move.”  
  
He started talking but Mickey interrupted. “You’re the whole reason that shit is this bad--”  
  
Ian laughed again, cutting him off. “Oh, no. You can blame your booze on me, your whiskey and your beer. You can even blame your little pills on me, but you’re not going to blame the fact that you put a needle in your arm, on me. That’s low, even for you.” He watched his face change. His expression was completely livid. He stood up and so did Ian. He shoved him hard, pushing his hands into his chest. It caused Ian to fly back a few feet. He was surprised by his strength considering how weak he had been lately and how he couldn’t seem to even sit up on his own two minutes prior to this.   
  
“I didn’t ask for any of this so why don’t you fuck off!” He yelled. His eyes were filling with tears and his face was stricken with anger.   
  
Ian stood there for a moment, collecting himself. He was wondering when Mandy was going to step in, if she was. He thought about clocking him directly in the middle of his face but he knew better. Violence wasn't how he wanted to handle his anger, but Mickey’s words were hurting, stabbing into his heart like ice. All he wanted was to help him and he was treating him like this?  
  
“That’s what you want? Huh, Mick? Huh? You want me to fuck off?” He stepped towards Mickey, getting in his face and grabbing the neck of his shirt. “Fine. You can leave. You can go live on the streets, get caught doing your dope, get arrested and go to prison for the rest of your life, and be without me. Because if that’s what you want, I will gladly—” he pushed Mickey back forcefully causing him to smash into the dresser behind him, knocking over a few beer bottles. “Fuck right off.” He watched as Mickey bounced back from the force and stared up at him, clearly disturbed.   
  
Ian had enough of his offensive back talk and decided it was time to put an end to it. "Now, how about you lay down," He grabbed Mickey's shoulders, forcing him to sit back on the bed. He seemed to obey. "And get some rest so your body can recover. You almost died, and I'm no doctor, but I really think you should be taking it easy and getting some rest. You need something to eat and then you can have your damn beer."   
  
He looked over at Mandy who was quiet during their whole argument. Mickey looked up at Ian with big, apologetic eyes. He didn't say anything else, instead walked out of the room and went down the stairs. He entered the kitchen, approaching the fridge, opening it and skimming the inside for something he could fix Mickey to eat. He knew it was vital since he had not seen him eat one thing in the last day or so. Ian realized he hadn't either, and his stomach growled at the thought of food. Something else caught his eye. He grabbed a beer, twisted the cap off, put it to his lips and drank the entire thing in a few large gulps. It was ice cold and gave him an aching brain freeze but he didn't care as he reached for another. He glanced in the fridge, feeling lucky that there was about a dozen more remaining. He filled his arms with them and walked over placing them on the counter. He returned to the fridge, grabbing some of what he needed to prepare a few sandwiches. There was what appeared to be ham and cheese in the crisper. He took them out and grabbed some bread on the top of the fridge. He began checking the bread for mold and taking a wiff of the ham making sure it was edible. It seemed to be fine by his standards.   
  
He used the entire loaf of bread. He made Mandy a sandwich too just in case she was hungry. He walked up the stairs, scarfing his down in a few bites, his beer in hand. He walked in and found that Mickey was still smoking. He set the plates on the bed.  
  
"Eat." He said sternly. He watched Mickey extend his arm attempting to take his beer but snatched it away before he could touch it. "Eat, first." He didn't say anything else as he was still bitter about Mickey's poor attitude and his lack of appreciation for him basically bringing him back to life. He turned back around, walking out and going back downstairs.  
  
"You're just going to ignore me now?" He heard Mickey shout.  
  
_Yep._ He thought to himself. He walked to the counter taking a seat at the bar stool and pushing the cold beers close to him. He closed his eyes, releasing a deep, stressful sigh. He was emotionally, psychically and mentally exhausted. When he woke up earlier that morning this was not how he had necessarily envisioned his day going. The love of his life was so far gone that he was now an avid drug user. He sighed again as the wheel's in his pressured mind continued to turn.   
  
_This is what I get. This is what I get for not getting in that car._ Another beer seemed to go down with ease. _I should have just went. I could have kept an eye on him and I could have made sure this never happened..._ His thoughts trailed off as he heard the front door open. He sincerely hoped it wasn't his brother but even better, it was Fiona. Normally he would most likely be nervous, dreading to reveal to her what was going on, but he was feeling a little warm from the alcohol and it didn't seem to faze him.  
  
She came in, setting her keys on the counter, looking up at him and smiling. "Hey!" She said excitedly. "How are you? I've missed you. You look..." She stared at the beer bottles. "You look good." She walked up to him and put her hands on his shoulders, giving him a squeeze. He looked up at her, his face was stern and he didn't smile back.  
  
"You okay?" She asked, her smile fading as she studied him.  
  
He took a few more heavy sips from his beer. "I was off my meds while I was in jail and Mandy told me I needed to start taking them because Mickey came back from Mexico for me since he was worried about me and didn't want to see me until I was healthy again so I've been on them for about three weeks now. I went to go see him last night, spent the night there and left the house for a minute and came back to find Mickey with a needle in his arm almost overdosing so I had to call Sue who resuscitated him and I brought him back here where he's staying until he gets sober because he's the love of my life and I'm not letting him go again and Lip already yelled at me about it so I really don’t want to hear it from you because I'm not kicking him out and that's final and if you're going to fight me on it you're going to lose because you shouldn't care since you're never here anyway." He inhaled, out of breath. "You want a beer?" He asked, smiling at her now.   
  
Her eyes were wide and some time passed before she responded. She made no comment on his story, but instead accepted his beer offer. "Anything else you want to talk about?"  
  
He shrugged. "No, that's about it." He was relieved he didn't have to have a shouting match with his sister, though he knew it wasn’t the end of this discussion. He felt Fiona’s sympathy and was thankful for it. He sat there for a while but he had to get back up to Mickey soon. It's all he could think about.


	11. Partner, lover, family.

  
**Ian's perspective.**  
  
The next morning Ian had woken up in Fiona’s bed with Mickey, holding him tightly in his arms. Fiona had left late last night after a few beers and a much needed conversation about certain matters that had come up in their lives, but he made it clear he didn’t want to discuss Mickey's situation. He knew she would ask questions about his plans for the future and where Mickey was going to be living but it wasn’t anything he felt he owed her an answer for yet.  
   
He slept restlessly with so much on his mind but found immense comfort in watching Mickey sleep so soundly. He looked so innocent with his eyes closed delicately and his rhythmic breathing flowing perfectly. Ian was still on edge from his nearly fatal drug overdose but tried his best to make sure he was recovering normally. He laid next to him, still staring and feeling as if he could stay and cherish this moment forever.  
   
He spooned Mickey, gently cradling his nude body. He tickled his legs lightly, work his fingers up from his lower calf to his shoulder. He felt reassurance as he watched a small smile appear on his face, scooting his hips in closer to him. He was getting excited until he heard rustling in the next room followed by thudding footsteps. He assumed it was Mandy rather than Lip. He eventually came home late in the night and completely ignored Ian, observing him for a moment with his empty beer bottles and making his way to his room. That was the last he had seen of him and he was almost certain he wouldn’t see much of him today.

Ian had a mission though since he had realized Mickey had no other clothes besides the ones he came wearing yesterday. He didn’t even think of grabbing some before they left but figured he could make one last trip back there to get some things.  
   
Mandy walked in looking frantically around the room for something she needed. “Can I borrow your green hoodie? It’s kind of cold this morning.”  
   
He covered up with the blankets quickly and nodded in approval. “Sure. Where are you going this early?” He asked, picking up his phone and noting the time.  
   
She looked at him like he should know her schedule. “Uh, work.”  
   
“Until when? Shit I wanted you to stay with him while I get some clothes from his house today.” He said, feeling disappointed.  
   
“Why can’t he wear your clothes?” She asked honestly.  
   
He looked over at him. “He’ll be swimming in them. He can’t fit in anything.”  
   
Mandy agreed. “You could have Lip stay with him.” She laughed.  
   
“Yeah, good one.” He said, sitting up and stretching his arms.  
   
“I’m sure he’ll be fine on his own.” Mandy shrugged, finding the green hoodie she asked for.  
   
“No way, I’m not risking that. Who knows where he’ll go or what he’ll do when he’s unsupervised.” He found his boxers on the floor. “Love the guy but don’t really trust him right now.”  
   
She put the hoodie on, thinking for a moment. “I’m sure Debbie wouldn’t mind. I’ll ask her.”  
   
This was probably the best idea and his only option anyway. 

\---

Debbie had agreed to keep an eye on Mickey and Mandy had given her specific instructions on keeping him in the house. Ian and her left and got on the L together, but went their separate ways at different stops. After an hourlong journey mostly on foot he had finally arrived. 

Ian approached the steps of the house. The door was still unlocked, thankfully. He ran up the stairs swiftly not wanting to spend anymore time there then he had to. He entered the room, looking around and noticing it was exactly how they had left it. He had brought a medium sized duffle bag to fill and walked around collecting what he hoped was Mickey‘s clothes, filling the bag. He picked up a pair of jeans, smelled them and nearly gagged. They were going straight in the washer when he got home. He had gathered a decent amount of clothes and came across a nice zippo lighter sitting on the end table which he snagged for himself. 

He walked back down the stairs throwing the duffle bag over his shoulder and continued on his way out the door. Just as he was about to walk down the cement steps he was startled to see someone was standing directly in front of him.

It was a tall man in a hooded sweatshirt, the same man who had left the house the day when Mickey almost overdosed. He studied him up and down, meeting his eyes which were dark and almost threatening. He appeared to have a large white scar on his right cheek. 

"Mickey here?” He asked looking like he was going to walk in the house himself.

Ian shook his head. “Nope, sorry.” He began walking past him when the man stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“Well when’s he going to be back?” He asked.

Ian glanced up at him. “He won’t be. Who’s asking?”

The man smirked. “Tell him J.T’s looking for him. He knows who I am.”

Ian stared at him for a moment remembering all the times he dealt with people like this when he was a child. Sketchy drug dealers who were always looking for Frank and Monica. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t encountered before. 

“Sorry,” He looked him up and down again. “but he won’t be coming back.” He continued to walk but he blocked him again. Ian met his eyes which weren’t very forgiving. 

“Sorry kid, that isn’t a good answer. He owes me $300 bucks.” He put his hands on Ian’s chest as if he wasn’t going to let him pass. 

Ian shoved him out of the way. “Well bud, looks like you’re out $300 bucks.”

The man extended his arm attempting to punch him but Ian was prepared for this and knew it was coming. He dodged his hit, taking a step back to release a powerful upper cut to his jaw and sending another blow to his nose. He fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Ian bent down to his level gripping the neck of his sweatshirt and pulling his ear to his mouth. He was close enough to smell his scent which was cigarette smoke and motor oil. 

“Stay the fuck away from Mickey. You hear me? You’re not getting your money and you just lost a customer so go sell your dope to someone else you low life piece of shit.” Ian gave him one more kick to the ribs. He shrieked in pain again as Ian fled from the scene, looking around to make sure no one had seen him. He started increasing his speed in case the guy was armed. He couldn’t help but run with a smile on his face knowing he did the right thing. 

\---

Ian made it back to his house. It was barely noon and the sun was already blaring down on his face with extreme heat. Just as he was turning the handle of the front door he heard someone whaling in pain.  
   
“OW, FUCK!”  
   
He heard Mickey’s screaming voice from the bottom of the stairs. Panicking, he ran up so fast he was creating a draft of motion. He rushed into his room, throwing the duffle bag on the ground. Debbie was standing across from Mickey, a loud zapping noise between them. He looked down to find her holding a bright pink device about the size of a TV remote. At the top there were two metal prongs, an electric blue light glowing in the middle.  
   
Mickey realized Ian was there. He was half dressed, one of Ian’s shoes on his feet which was much too big for him.  
   
“YOU’RE SISTER IS A FUCKING PSYCHO!” He yelled, his hands up in surrender.  
   
 “Woah, okay, calm down!” Debs, is that a fucking taser?!” He exclaimed, in total disbelief.  
   
“Yep, Mandy gave it to me. She said if he tried to leave ti can zap him a few times.” She said proudly.  
   
Ian shook his head. “Jesus Christ just when I though I’d seen it all in this house.”  
   
Mickey stepped away from the taser each time it zapped as Debbie pressed the button repeatedly. “There is something seriously wrong with you fucking Gallaghers!” He shouted.  
   
“It was your sister’s idea, not mine.” She said. “You can have you’re cranky ass boyfriend back now.”  
   
Mickey flipped her off. “Crazy fucking breed you people are.”  
   
Ian was trying to hold back a laugh. “I had no idea she had a taser, I’m sorry.”  
   
“Yeah well next time you need one of your crazy ass siblings to babysit me, tell them they can hold back on the abuse. You got a smoke?” He held his hand out.  
   
“Okay well, she had a point. Where the fuck were you going anyway?” He pulled a cigarette out of his pack, tossing it to him.  
   
“I was going to take a walk.” He didn’t meet his eyes.  
   
Ian scowled. “Oh yeah, haven’t left the house in months but today you decide to go take a stroll after you almost died. Sure.” 

He was quiet. “I can tell when you’re lying, Mick. Don’t bullshit me.”  
   
Mickey’s phone rang on the dresser. They locked eyes for a moment before both of them went lunging for it at the exact same time. Mickey was closer so he managed to get a hold of it first but Ian wasn’t going down without a fight. They wrestled around for a few seconds until they somehow ended up on the floor. Ian jumped on top of him, reaching for the phone trying to pull it from his hands but Mickey's grip was tight. He turned him around, almost putting him in a headlock but got him on his back. He pinned his legs on top of his chest, prying the phone from his white fingers.  
   
He turned on the phone, staring at it and reading as much as he could while Mickey was behind him still struggling to take it.  
   
“J.T?” He felt Mickey give up in defeat. “Your dealer?!” He shouted. He decided to hold back from explaining his encounter with him earlier that day. “Yeah, this shit is coming to end now. He’s not getting his money and you’re not getting anymore drugs.” 

He rushed over to the window, opening it and chucking the phone outside. He watched to make sure it hit the ground. He couldn’t help but feel accomplished as he witnessed it shatter into a couple of pieces.  
   
“There,” He said. “Now that settles it.” He smiled brushing his hands off as if they were dirty.  
   
Mickey stared at him, his expression wasn’t so much angry as it was entertained. His eyebrows were raised, his jaw tilted a little to the side. Ian could see his tongue outline through his cheek.  
   
“You’ve got balls.” He said finally.  
   
He nodded happily. “I know.”  
   
___  
   
**Two days later.**  
   
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Give me the bowl. Give me the fucking bowl!” Mickey yelled, leaning over Fiona’s bed. Ian was sitting on the edge, hurrying to grab the giant mixing bowl he had been using to yack in.  
   
The last couple of days had been hell for everyone in the house, but Mickey especially. He had been in extreme pain, vomiting every ten minutes and tossing in bed restlessly. He was sweating profusely and his skin was so pale he almost looked blue. When his body wasn’t over heated he was shivering in heavy chills, induced in a high fever. Ian had to run back and forth from opening and closing the window, taking off blankets and replacing them, turning the fan on then off again. He was unbelievably sick and less than pleasant to deal with. When he wasn’t yelling and swearing at someone he was groaning in pain and agony. Today he had thrown a thick hard cover book at Ian’s head which left a small gash on his forehead. He kept repeating to himself that this would all pay off in the end, that this would be all worth it once he was healthy, but it was hard to believe that through all the name-calling and low blows he had heard from him. His words hurt him but he still stayed there with him through every cold sweat and every bit of vomit that didn’t quite make it into the bowl.  
   
He watched Mickey puke, rubbing his back making sure he was leaning over far enough and wiping his mouth when he had the chance. “That’s good. You got it.” He said calmly. Most of it was stomach acid since he had already hacked up what little he ate that day.  
   
“Would you shut the fuck up?! I’m fucking barfing not giving birth!” He yelled, grabbing his stomach and whaling in pain. “Fuck, make it stop! Make it stop!” He turned back on his side, pulling the blankets over his head.  
   
Ian had fought back a lot of frustrated tears during this time and he was unsure of how much more he could take, but he knew it wasn’t an option; he was going to live up to his promise he made to Mickey. He was selflessly committed to getting him healthy.  
   
Suddenly he saw someone in the corner of his eye. Seeing Lip standing in the doorway caught him off guard.  
   
“You still playing doctor?” He asked, nodding his head towards Mickey who was still concealing himself under the covers.  
   
He sighed. “Yep. Lucky me.” He picked up the puke bowl, holding his breath as he made his way to the bathroom with it. He could feel Lip following behind him. He began dumping it in the sink, rinsing out the vomit residue.  
   
“How’s he doing?” He asked. He could hear that his tone was genuine.  
   
“Absolutely wonderful.” Ian replied.  
   
“I heard. Kinda reminds me of when we were kids and Frank couldn’t get crack for a few weeks. He’d cuss us out for just looking at him.” Ian turned around, meeting his brother’s eyes.  
   
“Yeah, then we’d throw legos at him.” They both could barely hold back their laughter.

A few moments passed as Lip handed him a dry wash cloth. “You should get this damp with cold water, for his forehead. It’ll help keep him cool when his fever spikes.”

Ian listened to his instructions getting the cloth wet and ringing it out. “Thanks...”  
   
“You know he’s withdrawing right?” Lip asked seriously.  
   
He sighed glancing at his reflection in the mirror. “Yeah, I know. Do you know how long it will this last?” He asked.

Lip shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe a week or so. It’s hard to say... Have you thought about maybe taking him to a detox center in the city or something?” He asked thoughtfully.  
   
Ian had thought they were speaking pretty quietly until he heard Mickey’s voice echo down the hall. “If you think for one fucking second you’re taking my ass to rehab you’re out of your god damn minds!”  
   
Lip peaked his head out of the bathroom. “Rehab and detox are two different things, genius!”  
   
“I don’t care, not fucking going!”  
   
Lip ignored him, looking back at Ian. “A real peach, isn’t he?”  
   
“I would probably do that if he wasn’t an escaped convict.” Ian said walking back to the room.  
   
Lip continued following. “Right. That slipped my mind. That’s quite the inconvenience.”  
   
Ian placed the clean bowl next to the bed. Lip sparked up a cigarette, taking a drag and passing it to him. “Look, I know I don’t say it a lot but I’m sorry for all the shit I said the other night. I just don’t want to see you going backwards but it’s your life, not mine. And if you truly love him and want to help him, I can’t really blame you for that.” Ian took the cigarette. “Thanks. It’s alright, I get it. It’s just something I need to do. He took care of me, you know? I kind of owe him.” He watched as Lip was about to respond but Mickey sat up from bed, snatching the cigarette from Ian’s mouth. He sighed impatiently but let him have it. “I do owe him.” 

“Are you two done with your little Hallmark moment?” Mickey said, ashing the cigarette in the mixing bowl by the bed, wiping away sweat from his face. 

Lip chuckled. “Don’t worry princess I was just leaving. Let me know if I can help, yeah?” 

Ian nodded. “Thanks, I will.”

“He won’t be like this forever. I promise.” He patted Ian on the shoulder then walked out. 

Ian felt good about his talk with his brother but he looked over at Mickey who was now shaking so hard his teeth were chattering. He laid the cloth on his forehead and started rubbing his back. He looked out the window staring at the blue summer sky. He couldn’t wait until this would pass, and he could just enjoy his time with him being a couple. A normal couple. Mental illness, family, jail and now drugs had torn them apart for years. 

Ian wasn’t going to let that be their fate.


	12. Summer Loving Part 2.

  
Ian's perspective.

It was another hot Summer day, the temperature had spiked pretty high but was slowly cooling as the day passed. Ian helped Debbie set the pool up a few days ago, mostly for Liam’s entertainment but he enjoyed using it also. It was a good way to cool down especially on scorching hot days like this. It was around 5PM and the sun was still shining brightly but temperatures were slowly decreasing. On this particular day, no one was home. Not a single Gallagher except for himself and Mickey who laid upstairs. Ian couldn’t recall a recent time this had happened. As usual Fiona was gone, Lip and Mandy were out somewhere, Debbie was working and Liam was at a friends house.  
   
Mickey was requiring less and less attentive care but wasn’t quite back to normal. He still spent most of his time sleeping but was eating more, gaining weight gradually and his vomiting had subsided completely which was nothing but good news. Ian had a strong feeling that his full recovery would occur any day now and he waited patiently for it, still helping Mickey as needed. It was the happy, positive thoughts that kept him going. He checked on him periodically throughout the day as he was becoming easier to deal with. He had asked Mickey daily if he was ready to come down stairs and socialize a little, maybe even come outside and get some vitamin D, but he knew he could care less about talking to anyone. Ian was starting to get a little stir crazy himself being locked in the house all day for over a week now, looking after Mickey.  
   
He was sitting in the pool letting the summer sun hit his overly pale skin. He doused himself in nearly have a bottle of SPF 80 before being exposed to any sunlight and would probably need to reapply soon. He would go back in to see Mickey but he knew he didn’t have to be so concerned with his health or how he was feeling. His withdraws were coming to an end and he couldn’t be happier and more relieved. Now, it was just a waiting game that Ian had learned to be patient for.  
   
But today, just like the day he was ready to go see Mickey after so much time apart, he was tired of waiting. He had done enough waiting. He looked up to Fiona’s window from the pool. It was open and he knew he was in there.  
   
He took a deep breath and cupped his hands around his mouth to extend his sound. “Mickey!” He yelled. His voice projected but not as loud as he wanted. There was no response. 

“MICKEY!” He yelled twice as loud. He heard indistinct shouting from the top window and couldn’t help but laugh. “COME OUT HERE!” He yelled again. 

A few moments passed. He didn’t know if he would listen and actually physically come down into the yard but sure enough, there he was, making his way down the back stairs. An irritated but positively adorable expression was on his face. Ian looked at him and felt a sense of inevitable relief as if this was all worth it. He had been waiting so long for this moment. Mickey had put on an exceptional amount of weight and it was the cleanest he had seen him since maybe he left for Mexico. He noticed he had taken a shower and shaved his face. He was dressed in some of his clothes Ian had washed a few days before, a pair of shorts and a tank top. He couldn’t stop himself from admiring every inch of his body. 

There he was. That was the Mickey he knew, the man that he remembered and loved so dearly. He felt the biggest, purest smile start to grow on his face and he didn’t even try to hold it back. It was nothing but honest joy that he felt and it didn’t make sense to try and hide it.  
   
“Look at you!” He said cheerfully leaning his arms over the side of the pool. “Come here.” He motioned for him to get in the water, splashing some next to him lightly. He stared him down again analyzing every bit of him. He caught his eye and he watched him smile back, stopping in his tracks.  
   
“You checking me out?” He asked, walking down his last step of the stairs.  
   
His smile was getting even bigger. “Of course not. I would never. Don’t flatter yourself.” He winked.  
   
He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a dick, Gallagher.”   
   
It was the first time he had seen him laugh none the less smile in far too long. It made his heart beat faster and his stomach do that weird flipping motion it did when he was around him. The last week had been filled with so much heartache and emotion that he just wanted to put all of it behind them and start looking forward. He had waited so long for this exact moment. This is where the hard work paid off and everything suddenly became worth it. Now, the past didn’t matter. All that mattered to him was how good Mickey looked standing there before him, and how bad he wanted him in that pool next to him him.  
   
Mickey walked up to the edge of the pool, putting his hand in to test the water.  
   
“Shit, that’s kind of cold.” He said, his lively eyebrows furrowing downwards.  
   
Ian smirked. “Oh come on, is not. Get your ass in here.”  
   
Mickey began refusing. “No, I’m good on that. Have at it.”  
   
Ian rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a pussy. I’ve been busting my ass for like a week now being your nurse, making sure you’re comfortable, feeding you, cleaning up your puke. The least you could do is get in this fucking pool with me.”  
   
He watched as Mickey’s face was full of thought. “I can’t swim! I told you that. I could fucking drown, you want me to drown?” He asked, half smiling.  
   
Ian laughed almost hysterically. “Mick, it’s like five fucking feet!” He smacked the water causing it to splash all over him.  
   
He tried to turn the opposite way and block it but was unsuccessful. “Yeah maybe for your tall ass…” He splashed him back, this time with more water but Ian wasn’t letting him get away with it. He started cupping handfuls of water, lunging them over the pool where he was standing, drenching him. After he completely soaked him, Mickey gave up. “Fine! I’ll go! But if I start flailing around or some shit you need to rescue me.”  
   
“Oh, like be your lifeguard? That’s pretty hot.” Ian winked again. He could see Mickey was laughing as he began removing his clothes. He stripped down to everything but his boxers, then ran to the pool jumping over the side which created a giant, splashing wave. He came to the surface, bobbing his head up and flipping his hair. Ian was in dreamland. It was like a scene from a movie as he watched every move he made, in all his beautiful, admirable glory. It was easy to see his confidence had come back simply by his mannerisms and how he was presenting himself. He knew how to flaunt himself when he really wanted to. If they weren’t in public right now Ian wouldn’t hesitate going in for an attack.  
   
“Woooooo!” Yelled Mickey, shaking his head and knocking some of the water from his hair. “Yep, that’s fucking cold. My balls are shrinking.”  
   
“Really? Let me feel.” Ian swam over to him, reaching down below. He wasn’t kidding. “Woah, yeah they are!” He said, making Mickey laugh again. After a few more moments of shared laughter, Ian stared into Mickey’s eyes instantly feeling the serious, fiery hot chemistry between them. “How do you feel?” He asked. Ian wasn’t used to asking anyone this as people were constantly asking him how was feeling rather than the other way around.  
   
He looked up to the sky squinting at the sun, then back at Ian again. “I feel better.” He said quietly nodding his head in assurance. It was no secret that Mickey wasn’t the talkative type but Ian forced it out of him. Over the years he had learned to pry out certain feelings from the very bottom of his heart. 

“I was in a bad place there for a minute. Shit was pretty fucked up.” He wiped some of the water from his face. “You didn’t give up on me. I needed you and you were there. You proved me wrong.” The look he gave Ian spoke a thousand words. If he didn’t know any better he thought he might cry. He could tell because his eyes were shifting in different directions and he itched his nose like he did when he fought back tears.  
   
Ian swam over to him where he had his arms on either side of the pool wall. He got up close, breathing heavy and placing his hands on his hips. Mickey’s eyes continued to shift. His hands worked their way behind his back where he gently caressed him. He tried following the way his eyes were going.  
   
“Hey.” He said. “Hey, look at me. Will you please look at me?” He asked. He followed his eyes a bit longer until they finally stopped, the dark blues burning on him. “I told you I was going to take care of you. No matter what. The good, the bad and the ugly. That’s love. That’s the love I never showed you.” Ian kissed his forehead without hesitation knowing it was more than the appropriate moment. Mickey was definitely crying now, a few tears stood out from the other beads of water on his wet face. He smiled.  
   
“I love you, you know that? I love the fucking shit out of you.” He placed his hand on Ian’s face, stroking the side of his cheek like he always did.  
   
Ian nodded in agreement. “I know that. I love you, too and I always will. I know your life sucks but I’m here to make it less sucky.”

“You wanna give me some sucky?” Mickey’s signature move, shifting the content of the conversation in an instant. He looked remarkably giddy, that sly little smile appearing on in his face. The crooked one that only turned on the right side.  
  
The one that made Ian almost combust. 

The flirtation rising between them was so hot that the pool wasn’t really cooling him off any longer. 

“I don’t know if you’re feeling well enough for that yet.” Ian’s tone was light and sarcastic as he put his head on Mickey’s forehead, mocking him. He smacked his hand away, but gripped his wrist tightly, shoving it into the water and down to his crotch. 

Ian’s eyes widened, totally enthralled. “Well hey there.” He smiled, biting his lip for the sake of the moment. He watched Mickey’s lips separate, his tongue tracing over the top. He knew this game; it was the one they had played many times and the one Ian had always lost. 

“You better be careful there mister America’s most wanted. Wouldn’t want the Chicago PD to find you out here, getting your dick sucked. What is it, public indecency?” He kept his hand in place, stroking the hardness of his groin. 

Mickey titled his head back breaking into withheld laughter. “What’s another charge? If I could feel your mouth on my cock one last time I’d go back to to prison a happy man.” He licked his lips again which sent Ian into desperation mode. He gave him one last pull to his junk watching Mickey jolt in pleasure before jumping over the pool wall. He grabbed a towel, wrapping it around him and hopped up the stairs. He didn’t have to check if Mickey was following; after a performance like that he knew he was. 

He entered the kitchen, stopping in mid step listening carefully. He wanted to make sure no one had snuck through the front door since he hadn’t been paying attention. He looked around. There wasn’t a rustle, no dripping sound from the coffee maker, no tumble of the dryer or the shake from the washer, there wasn’t a single footstep and the T.V wasn’t even left on. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of joy as he realized the house was indeed empty. The silence was interrupted by Mickey’s sopping footsteps behind him. He turned, about to take off his towel when Mickey launched for it, stealing it from his grip and twisting it to make a damp whip. He shot it at his ass a few times. He shrieked in pain but couldn’t stop laughing.

“Alright alright alright!” Ian yelled in harmless surrender. They stood there, both recovering from their fit of laughter. Ian stopped suddenly. He couldn’t last another second. He reached for his hips since it seemed to be his favorite place to grab on to these days. He pulled them towards him, feeling his hard cock against his. He reached down and pulled off his soaking boxers, throwing them somewhere nearby. He heard Mickey let out a faint moan which only made his urge to be inside him stronger. He shoved him into the counter, a pleasurable smile clear on his face. He ran his hands up Mickey’s chest, his neck and then rested them behind his head, closing their distance to meet his lips. He kissed him with heavy passion maneuvering his tongue in and out of his mouth rapidly but keeping a harmonic rhythm. Their kisses always flowed together perfectly. They somehow made there way into the living room never once breaking their lips or pulling apart until Ian turned him around forcefully and pushed him over the couch. 

There was no time to be wasted on both their parts. Ian went in for the taking, pushing himself inside Mickey with no hesitation as he gripped his hips for balance. The intimacy was very much needed between the both of them as Ian could feel Mickey pressing against him practically begging for his body. He felt a little uneasy knowing that at any second someone could come barging through the door but that didn't stop him. In fact, it only made the moment that much more enticing. He squeezed his hips harder, thrusting inside of him and gaining speed as he could tell Mickey wanted it faster. Ian watched as Mickey's head smashed into the couch cushion repeatedly, a fulfilling smile wide on his face. His hands curled on the side of it, his knuckles white from gripping so tightly.  
   
"Fuck." Mickey said, moaning in satisfaction.  
   
Ian smiled, watching his face. "You like that?" He asked, glancing back and forth from Mickey's sexy facial reactions to the image of his cock sliding in and out of his ass.  
   
"Yeah, yeah keep going." He replied, panting heavily.  
   
Ian was losing grip of Mickey's hips as they were both drenched in an overwhelming amount of sweat. There were a few more generous pumps from Ian but he was on the verge of getting off, and so was Mickey. He could feel him start to tighten around him and began grunting attractively which sent him into a spiral of pleasure. He started to slow down a bit, pacing himself before pulling the trigger and making everything come to an end. Mickey wasn't having this though as he pushed himself against him, reaching around and grabbing his backside, pressing firmly which he knew from past experience this was signal for him to pump harder. He listened to his requests and began thrusting harder with enthusiasm. During the times they would have sex, Mickey was extremely persistent and made it very known what he wanted and exactly how he wanted it. Ian was very in tune with his physical needs and knew how to give him what he liked. Their sexual chemistry had always been extraordinary.  
   
Ian continued pounding him until he knew Mickey was growing weak. His hands made their way up to his shoulders where he held a firm grip. Just a few seconds longer and he would have Mickey right where he wanted him.

Sure enough, Mickey’s intoxicating, anxious voice broke. “Fuck. Fuck Ian. I’m coming.” 

Just the words alone made him reach his climax also. They came together and both released heavy moans, Ian collapsing on Mickey’s back. They were out of breath but caught each other’s eye and simultaneously started giggling. Ian got up almost peeling himself off of his back as they stuck together due to the sweat on their bodies. He gave Mickey a slight smack on the ass. 

“Wow.” He said, shaking his head in awe. 

Mickey wiped some beads of sweat off his face. “Damn, Gallagher. Never gets old.” Ian watched his nude body walk into the kitchen. He couldn’t look away and he really didn’t want to. Mickey returned to him with two cold beers. Ian twisted the cap, put it to his lips about to take a sip when there was a sudden knock at the door. His eyes met Mickey’s instantly. They were wide and alarming. 

“Shit.” Mickey said putting his bottle on the coffee table and running into the kitchen to retrieve his boxers. Ian found his swim trunks and put them on. The cold dampness felt good on his skin. 

“Relax Mick, not everyone who knocks on my door is the cops.” He said calmly. He thought about what he said for a moment realizing that most people who did knock on his door were in fact the cops, but he wasn’t worried. It could be anyone. He opened the door slowly and instantly regretted it, almost wishing it was the cops. 

There, standing on his porch was probably the last person he wanted to see after a steamy sex session. 

He wasn’t sure exactly what to say. “Uh... hi.”


	13. Debt Collectors.

  
**Mickey’s perspective.**

Mickey found his wet boxers, sliding them on his body as quick as he possibly could. He wasn't sure whether he should run up the stairs and look for a sufficient hiding place or duck under the counter. Maybe he should run in the back yard, maybe in the pool, or even the basement. If the cops had gotten word he was in Chicago this would most definitely be one of the first places they would look. He was on the verge of a major anxiety attack. He scrambled around the kitchen, ducking down so his head wouldn't be visible from the front window. He heard indistinct chattering, mostly from Ian but could faintly hear another soft spoken voice, which didn't sound like any cops he knew. He peaked around the corner but couldn't make out anything. He saw Ian look behind him. He mouthed the words "It's fine." 

Mickey grabbed on to the kitchen counter, exhaling in total relief. He could relax now, and walked back to the coffee table to grab his beer. He had assumed it was most likely someone looking for Frank or one of the other Gallaghers. He glanced up, Ian still standing there talking looking nervous and painfully awkward. He tried to see who the unknown person at the door was over Ian's broad shoulders, standing on his tip toes. He gave up, walking over to see for himself physically moving Ian from blocking his site. There on his porch was a somewhat small kid with thick eyebrows and dark curly hair. He met Mickey's eyes and he watched as they squinted curiously. 

"Who the fuck is this?" Mickey asked, interrupting their conversation and chugging about half his beer. He thought the kid had looked oddly familiar but he wasn’t finding a name.

Ian didn't say anything directly to Mickey. He turned back to the kid on the porch. "I'll go get it just uhm… wait right here." He said nervously. He was acting peculiar as he shut the door fast but slowly turned the handle to avoid slamming it. 

"Who is that?" Mickey asked again putting his hand on Ian’s upper arm lightly gripping it.

"That's Trevor. He came by to get some stuff he left here." He spoke so fast he could hardly pick up what he was saying.

"That's--" He pointed back to the door. "That's Trevor? You're ex-boyfriend with the vagina?"

Ian huffed like he was annoyed. "Yes, Mick. Can you keep your voice down? Jesus."

Mickey widened his eyes. "Keep my voice down? You afraid he's going to come in here and fight me or something?" He laughed as he watched Ian run up the stairs in a hurry. He walked back into the kitchen getting another beer from the fridge, this one he chugged even quicker. He made his way back up to the living room, glancing up the stairs to make sure Ian was out of sight. He walked to the front door, turning the handle and swinging it open. He watched Trevor jump in surprise, almost laughing at his reaction but he kept his cool. His face looked very confused. Both of them stood there staring at each other uncomfortably for too long of a time. Mickey sized him up, his hand gripping the top of the door, his hip perched to one side. He was still in his boxers and he thought about how Ian was in his swim trunks. They were both still sweating, and Mickey felt like laughing again as he could only imagine how this looked to Trevor. He was finding it immensely entertaining. Trevor looked around him, finally holding his hand out as if to introduce himself.

"Hi..." He watched as Trevor's face studied him awkwardly. "I don't think we've met, have we? I'm Trevor." He smiled forcefully.

Mickey didn't say anything, but he knew he was starting to recognize him. He stared down at his hand before Trevor quickly pulled it away. He took another long sip from his beer and then belched loudly. Trevor looked disturbed. 

"Nope, sure haven't." Said Mickey giving one sharp shake of his head. "But I know who you are." He continued staring at him. He could tell he was making Trevor feel very uneasy, maybe even that his safety was in jeopardy.

"Oh..." He looked down, avoiding Mickey's eyes now. "I thought uhm... I thought you were in Mexico."

"Not no more." Mickey chuckled, still staring at him. He reached into his wet boxers grabbing onto his package, making it very obvious so his eyes couldn't do anything but follow. He was getting too much enjoyment out of this.

Ian came flying in the entry way with a grocery bag of clothing. He stared at the both of them clearly trying to evaluate what was happening. He reached to Trevor, handing him the bag. "Here." He said quietly. "That should be everything."

Trevor was about to respond but Mickey spoke first. "Ian, you're not going to introduce me to your friend." He smiled cynically. "Sorry, we're a little out of breath after a nice fuck--"

Ian rolled his eyes, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the house. Before he shut the door, Mickey looked behind his back. "Toodles!" He shouted joyfully.

They entered the living room as he was laughing, feeling accomplished. "Tell me again how you went from this," He grabbed his crotch through his boxers. "To that!" He pointed to the door again, his eyebrows raised. "Weird shit, man." He said shaking his head.

"You shouldn't have come out there." Ian said seriously.

Mickey scoffed. "Why the fuck not? I'm not scared of him."

Ian shrugged. "Never said you were, but what if he does something stupid like goes to the cops or something."

"Well that would be a fucked up move on his part. Maybe if he has a fucking death wish. Damn Gallagher, where the fuck do you find these dudes? Chicks? Whatever.” He shook his head.

Ian was about to respond when all of the sudden, there was another knock at the door. This time it was a louder, deeper pound that caused the door handle to shake. Both of them exchanged looks of concern. 

"Wait here." Ian said, heading over to the door and opening it slowly. Mickey followed closely behind, peering over his shoulder again to see who was standing on the porch. He was ready to make a run for it in case it was really the cops this time. Thankfully it wasn’t, but he was unprepared for the person standing before them. 

"Oh, fuck." Mickey said under his breath. It was his drug dealer, the one he had been in debt to for a while now, and the one Ian had referred to before he tossed his phone at this window a couple of weeks earlier. He was accompanied by another man who was about twice his size.  
  
"That's him. I want my fucking money!" J.T yelled, attempting to bust into the house for Mickey, but stopped in front of Ian. Now he could see the other man he was with more clearly but Mickey didn't recognize him. He swallowed as he realized this wasn’t going to end well. Ian attempted to block both of them, slamming the door on his hand but this only worked for a good three seconds. J.T and the other man smashed their way in through Ian's grip. He came lunging for Mickey, wrapping his arms around his abdomen and flipping over the couch, pinning him to the ground and hitting him in the face.

"GET OFF HIM!" He heard Ian yell from the doorway now struggling to fight off the other guy that had J.T had brought with him. Mickey wasn't just going to lay there and get pummeled on while Ian was getting hit too. He got a surge of adrenalin, grabbing J.T’s fist mid hit and managing to turn him around on his back. He wasn't sure where he was hitting but he began shoving his fists in huge, jaw shattering punches, hoping they were doing damage. He heard J.T groan with each hit to face. One on his jaw, another on his nose and another to his left eye. He kept going, his knuckles and fingers in excruciating pain as the pressure of impact from his face smashed into them. He took a quick look at Ian who seemed to be putting up an even fight but he could tell that wasn't going to last long. The man J.T had brought with him for this fight was even bigger than Ian and was getting his fair share of hits in. Beginning to panic, Mickey kept hitting J.T with as much power as he could deliver. Suddenly he heard a familiar voice screaming in the background.

"HEY! WHAT THE FUCK!? GET THE FUCK OFF OF HIM!" Mickey watched as Lip came storming in, tossing his barely smoked cigarette somewhere on the ground nearby. He jumped up on this man's back, wrapping his legs around his waist as he started pounding him on the face from the side. As Ian got a break, he was free from a few punches so he was able to start really hitting the man back, punching him with just as much force as Mickey had.

J.T was still trying his best but was growing weak, as was the man Lip and Ian had tag teamed. He somehow broke free of Mickey's hits, jumping over the couch and shoving the man away from Ian and his brother. "Let's get the fuck out of here Damon! Let's go!" Ian shoved him off the front steps, Lip running after them but they were much too fast. 

"FUCK YOU!" He screamed. "DON'T YOU EVER COME BACK TO MY FUCKING HOUSE AGAIN, I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Mickey watched Lip run back up the porch stairs, putting his hands on his knees, wiping a few beads of blood off his forehead. He was pretty battered, but not as bad as his boyfriend, and most likely not as bad as himself. He felt his head aching with pain. All three of them were out of breath. They all walked into the house, Mickey being the last one and slamming the door shut, locking it without question. They all plopped down on the couch in exhaustion. 

"Anyone want to fill me in on why there were two sketchy ass dudes giving you a beat down in the doorway." Lip ripped Ian's cigarette out of his hands he was just about to light. His tone was calm which Mickey found surprising. 

"That's my drug dealer. I owe him some money and he's not taking no for an answer, apparently." He said quietly. He was incredibly embarrassed; putting stress on Ian and his family was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. He created this situation and he felt nothing but guilt for it.

Ian looked at Mickey, his tone strong. "He was your drug dealer. he's not your drug dealer anymore. I knocked him in his face a couple of weeks ago, you think he would take the hint."

Mickey almost skipped over what he had just heard until he processed it. "What do you mean, you don't know J.T." He stated. He tried to remember if there was ever an opportunity for Ian to even meet the guy but he didn't think there was a chance of them ever crossing paths.

"Yeah, I do. He was there trying to collect your heroin money when I was at Iggy's getting you some clothes. I punched him and told him to fuck off. Guess he didn't get the point." He was playing with a flap of broken skin on his knuckle.

Mickey felt his heart flutter in a wave of emotional butterflies. He tried to hold back a smile knowing it wasn't really the right time but he couldn't hide it. He was quite flattered that Ian went through that effort for him, fighting off the guy who was selling him bad drugs. He thought it was noble and chivalrous, something he knew he would also do for Ian if it was necessary. The level of protection they had for one another was remarkable.

"You guys really have the weirdest fucking relationship, I swear." Lip said holding the filter of his cigarette between his fingertips, shaking his head in disbelief as he took a heavy drag. "They going to come back any time soon? How the fuck do they know you live here?" Lip asked, passing the cigarette to Mickey now. He gave him a thankful expression and a nod in approval. This was the nicest and most understanding Lip had probably ever been to him.

"I don't know, man. I have no clue. Those kind of guys are fucking persistent though. You owe them a dime and they'll find you at your house, your job, chop your family into bits." Mickey took a puff from his cigarette, looking up and finding Lip and Ian staring at him, completely mortified. "What?! It's true."

"Well that's fucking great." Ian said. "Look at this shit, Mick. All this drug shit is coming to bite you in the ass." 

Mickey pointed at him. "Don't fucking start with me." His tone was harsh but he backed off, realizing this was really no one's fault except his own which was hard for him to admit. "Look, I didn't know it was going to get this bad. If they come back again—”

“We’ll call the cops.” Lip said simply. Ian stood up, waving his hands.

“No, no, no. No cops. Bad idea.” He said. “If it’s that big of a problem, we’ll just give him his money and it’ll all blow over.”

Mickey looked at him questionably. “You got money to pay him? And it won’t just blow over. Not now. They’re out for blood.”

Ian put his feet on the coffee table. “You know, the church of Gay Jesus wasn’t all that bad. I got a little bit of money saved up. I can give him the cash.” 

“First of all, Gay Jesus was that bad,” He said seriously. “And second of all, we won’t have to pay him shit because they would be a bunch of fucking idiots to come back here.”

No one spoke about it after that. They sat on the couch passing their cigarette three ways.

\---

Mickey and Ian sat at the kitchen table together. They were pretty mangled and the pain of their battle wounds only got more extreme as time passed. Ian had a swelled lip that had turned many shades of black and blue. There was also a large gash on his upper cheek that didn’t seem to stop bleeding. Mickey was unsure if he broke his nose but it certainly felt that way. His knuckles were covered in cuts and Ian had mentioned his eye looked like it was bruising. He couldn’t bend his hand into a fist which gave him the impression that it was possibly broken. They were both pretty boozed up, drinking enough beer to make them more than comfortable. Mickey had even persuaded Ian to break out a bottle of Jameson to really lighten the mood and also numb the increasing pain.

They shared cigarettes back and forth as they sat in their bloody, bruising madness. Mickey looked at Ian, not being able to bare seeing him in pain. This was the cause of his careless drug use and he felt completely responsible. He got up, leaning over Ian and inspecting his face.

“You guys got a first aid kit or some shit?” He asked.

Ian pointed to the bathroom. “There might be one under the sink.”

Mickey walked in and searched. He found it, opening the box to find a few band aids as well as some gauze he could wrap Ian’s hands in. He was working slow with a potentially broken hand trying to fiddle with the roll of gauze. He dragged his chair closer to Ian stealing the wet rag he was holding on his cheek for the bleeding. He was now blotting his wound for him, trying to reach for a band aid but winced in pain as his hand began throbbing.

“Give me that.” Ian said snatching the kit from him. “You’re way worse than me.” He started wrapping his hand up in the gauze as Mickey grunted in pain. “Shit Mick, this could be broken.” He said, clearly concerned. 

“Well it’s not like I can go to the fucking hospital.” He said. He picked up the bottle of Jamison and poured it on his and Ian’s knuckles.

“OW, SHIT!” Ian shrieked, retracting his hand back to his chest. 

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a little bitch. It’s whiskey, it’s good for everything. Prevents infection and shit.” 

Suddenly they heard the front door whip open. Both him and Ian jumped up instantly, staring down the entry way waiting to attack. To Mickey’s relief it was only Fiona. He glanced over at Ian who didn’t seem as relived, but he sat back down, taking a pull from the whiskey bottle.

Fiona came in the kitchen smiling excitedly but her smile was only temporary as she saw both of them in their condition.

“What the fuck happened to you guys?” She said, rushing over to Ian and automatically putting her hands on his face. He backed away before she could touch. “Why are you guys always beating each other up?! I don’t get it!”

Mickey looked down in shame as he spoke. “We weren’t fighting. My drug dealer came by looking for me and basically beat the shit out of us. But we got them pretty good, too.”

Ian shot Mickey a mean look as if he didn’t want him telling his sister all of their business. Fiona was staring at Mickey in slight shock but he could tell she was trying to be understanding as she processed his words.

“That’s pretty scary.” She said. Mickey heard Ian mumble a smart-ass remark under his breath. He grabbed the bottle of Jameson, pouring a hefty shot into a shot glasses and passing it over to her. She looked reluctant but took the shot anyway. Mickey wasn’t really good with pouring out his feelings since he mostly poured them into shots, anyway. It was his way of telling Fiona thank you for letting him stay there even though he was causing a ton of problems. 

“Do you guys need anything? You should probably put some ice on your eye.” She said to Mickey, walking over to the fridge and coming back with a blue ice pack in her hand.

“That’s okay—” Mickey began but Fiona shoved the ice pack on his face, placing it on his eye. He half smiled holding the ice pack in place with his good hand. 

She took a seat at the table, staring at both of them before speaking. “Look, I’m not going to ask you guys a bunch of questions and make you feel any pressure—”

“Good.” Said Ian suddenly. Mickey read his face as he looked annoyed and aggravated.

Fiona ignored him. “But, what’s the plan here? I mean, if you guys are going to be together that’s fine and I’ll support you in whatever you want to do, but is this where you want to spend all of your time?” She asked honestly.

“Mickey can’t leave, Fiona. He’s a wanted criminal. You know that.” Mickey could sense his tone getting more stern.

She nodded in agreement. “I realize that, and I understand that. But all I’m saying is you two stay cooped up in this house day in and day out and I don’t think it’s good for either of you. Also, I could get in trouble, Ian. Big trouble. I could get charged with like, harboring a fugitive or whatever.”

Ian’s face turned harsh as his eyebrows furrowed. Mickey poured another shot, sliding it to Fiona, speaking before Ian could. “I know that. We’ll figure something out. I’m not trying to be a burden on the family, that’s not what I want.”

Fiona shook her head and put her hand on Mickey’s avoiding his bloody knuckles. “You’re not. You’re not a burden. Ian loves you.”

They both looked over at Ian who was sparking up yet another cigarette. “For now, this is how it has to be.” He said simply.

“And that’s totally fine. But having random drug dealers looking for Mickey at the house is kind of alarming and it scares me, for a lot of reasons.” She shifted her look back at Mickey. “Are you clean now?”

Mickey nodded fiercely. “Yes, completely. A hundred percent, you can even test me.”

Fiona smiled sweetly again. “There’s no need to do that, I trust you. I’m trying to work with you guys. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

She got up from the table, heading for the stairs. Before she disappeared, Mickey got her attention. “Fiona?” He said. He watched her flip around, her smile still just as welcoming. “Thanks.” He said shyly. 

Her smile grew a little bigger. “You’re welcome.” She turned back to the stairs and made her way up.

“You’re a kiss ass.” Ian said, folding his arms.

“Fuck yourself, I am not. I’m being nice to your family for letting my piece of shit ass stay here, maybe you should try it.” Mickey said. He was being honest as he felt he was the stem of all the current issues in the household. He poured another shot for himself and another for Ian. 

“Cheers!” Mickey said, handing the other shot glass to Ian as they clanked them together.

“Oh yeah? Cheers to what?” Ian asked hopelessly. 

Mickey paused, searching for words as he too was coming up empty on ideas. “To us. And our perfect life.” He said. He was spitting as laughter escaped out of his lips.

Ian was laughing too, grabbing his stomach. “It’s just amazing, isn’t it?”

Mickey mirrored his laughter taking Ian’s cigarette from him. The laughing subsided as Ian looked up at Mickey, his forest green eyes big and glossy, full of sorrow. “Are we ever just going to be happy together?” He asked. His heart shattered into a million pieces as he couldn’t come up with a logical answer for him, but he wasn’t going to leave him without hope.

He nodded his head slowly. “We will. It might not be tomorrow, or next week, but it’ll happen. One day.” He leaned over the table, closing in their distance and giving Ian a light kiss on the lips.

The truth was, as terrible as everything had been between them, there was nowhere Mickey would rather be, and no one he would rather have on his side than Ian.

It was the both of them against the world, together.


	14. Fuck Sizzlers.

  


**Mickey’s perspective.**  
  
It was an exceptionally early day in the Gallagher house. So early, in fact, the sun had barely come up. No one seemed to be awake which made Mickey do nothing but bask in the quietness, temporarily enjoying every second before someone woke up and ruined it all. It had been awhile since he had a moment of peace where no one could disturb him. His life had changed so drastically over the last few weeks that it was hard to believe this was his reality. Though it wasn't much, his life had a more significant meaning now that Ian had made his way back in. It was almost as if his soul had been missing for so long and Ian finally returned it to him, making his pathetic life whole again. Though his daily life was extremely limited and he could only accomplish so much throughout the day, he never regretted one second he spent with Ian despite the circumstances. Every moment with him was like a still in time, nothing slowed, but nothing passed either. He was becoming more optimistic of Ian's commitment to him after he endured him at his complete worst, withdrawing from heroin and showing the darkest side of himself. However, through it all and however terrible it may have been, Ian still sat by his side without complaint.

It was only a matter of time before the high temperatures would pick up and it would become unbearably hot, especially in the upper level of the house. Since Ian and him had been staying in Fiona’s room it was a bit more open so there was more space for air circulation, but they both still sweat heavily throughout the night. Usually Mickey slept like a rock, closing his eyes once at night and opening them when he woke, but tonight had been full of broken sleep as he had been tossing and turning for hours now. He had been locked behind walls for months and he could sense an awful case of cabin fever rising. He couldn’t stand another day inside the house, cooped up and unable to do anything or go anywhere like most people. It was beginning to take a toll on his mental state and he wasn't sure how much more he could stand. He assumed Ian felt the same way since he hadn't left at all either, staying in with him day in and day out. 

He began tapping his foot anxiously, his arm hanging over his forehead as he stared out the window, watching the sky brighten slowly, though it was still dim out. His urge for a cigarette was enough to make him get up and find one, but before he did so he turned to Ian who was sleeping very soundly, his mouth hanging open, a little puddle of drool on the pillow. This made Mickey automatically smile as he reached over to stroke his back, leaning over the side of him and planting a small peck on his warm cheek. He analyzed him for a moment, looking at his porcelain skin and messy orange hair that had grown out beautifully. He also noticed an overabundance of freckles on his face and shoulder that always broke out and darkened during the summer. Mickey smirked quietly to himself as he continued running his fingertips over his long, stretched out body. He felt Ian scoot a little closer to him, shifting adorably as he nestled his head further into the pillow. Mickey couldn't resist as he gave his nude butt a little pinch.

He got up out of bed putting on some clothes he had lying on the floor before walking out into the hallway. He couldn't believe how quiet it was considering the house was usually busy with some kind of action. He walked in the other room, peering inside to only find Liam sleeping in his bed. He assumed Debbie was there since her door was closed and it was usually only shut if she was in it. He peaked into Frank’s bedroom where he found Lip and Mandy cuddled together in each other's arms, though he didn’t stare for too long since they also appeared to be undressed.

For the few seconds that he did stare he thought of his sister and how much he truly cared for her, even though he didn’t say it as often as he should. She had done so much for him over the years and she was the only family he had left. He remembered a time when she wasn't around and they lived totally separate lives. Now, here they were, back in the same place they had started, adding to another chapter of their story. 

Lip had his arms around Mandy securely, her head tucked into his chest. _Maybe we can end up happy with these fucking Gallaghers._ He thought to himself.

He made his way down the stairs to the kitchen, turning on the light switch as the sunlight wasn't quite bright enough to illuminate the room yet. He felt his stomach rumble as he walked over to the fridge and opened the door. He looked around to scope any food that was worth cooking. If he had enough ingredients maybe he could fix everyone breakfast. He couldn't remember the last time he had cooked for himself let alone a house full of people. He continued scanning until something red and green shined in his peripheral vision. “Fuck yes!” He whisper shouted to himself as he spotted a bottle tabasco on the shelf in the fridge door. It was from the last time he had stayed in the Gallagher home and it looked like it hadn’t even been touched since then. He took it out and shook it up a bit, twisted off the cap and took a smell which burned his nostrils.

“Good as new.” He said, hoping it didn’t have an actual expiration date since it was well over two years old. He also found a few Old Style's left over from the night previously and grabbed a single egg from the dozen carton. He walked across the kitchen and managed to find a clean cup in the cupboard. He opened the chilled beer, pouring it into the glass and watching as the condensation immediately formed around it. He cracked the raw egg on the edge, dropping it in then shaking a few drops of hot sauce in vigorously. He put the glass to his lips devouring the entire portion in a few lengthy sips. He pulled away from it as he let out a sigh of satisfaction. It was these little joys in life, the small things that kept him sane.

He threw the cup in the sink tapping his fingers on the counter top wondering what to do next. He couldn’t even attempt to sleep now which he knew was certain. His joyous moment continued as he saw a pack of Marbs lying on the kitchen table. He walked over to them, pulling one out of the pack. Luckily he had a lighter in his pocket, a black zippo he had taken with him all the way back from Mexico. Ian had brought it back from Iggy’s house and he had stolen it back again. He lit the cigarette, looking around the dining room and the kitchen feeling bored and useless. He almost took a seat at the table when he glanced over at the sink noticing the mountain of dishes stacked in it, overflowing to where they had collected on the counter. He sighed thinking it would probably keep him in Fiona’s good graces if he a did a little bit of cleaning. It was the least he could do considering he was staying there completely scotch free and wasn’t contributing much of anything. Besides, he was starting to become so bored from being stuck in that house that he was willing to do anything to keep him distracted to prevent his mind from wandering. He ran the water and began scrubbing, the cigarette still lit between his lips.

\---

After he completed the dishes, he wiped down the counters putting his bottle of tabasco back in the fridge. Why they kept it in there, he was unsure. Before he closed the fridge door he realized the fridge itself was disgustingly vile and had an odd lingering smell of mayonnaise. There were more than a few unknown spills of various colors on the side of the door that ran from the top all the way down to the very bottom. He didn't check any dates on anything but he was sure some of the product in it was entirely outdated. There was a teriyaki to-go box that had been in there since he spent his first night back in the house. He began removing all the contents from the fridge, setting them on the counter. He retrieved the sponge he had been using and got on his knees, scrubbing the walls of the fridge with a vengeance. He did it with his good hand as his other was still sore from the bloody brawl that took place the day before. He heard thudding footsteps down the stairs and knew who it was without having to look behind him to check.

“What the fuck are doing?” Mandy asked. Her groggy voice trailed off into a heavy yawn.

“I’m picking apples from a cherry tree, the fuck does it look like?” He said trying his hardest to get a circular brown spot off of one of the shelves.

Mandy laughed. “You're cleaning the fucking fridge at 5AM? Shit, I should get a picture of this for proof. No one will believe me."

He flipped her off. “I can't sleep, I'm going lose my god damn mind if I have to spend another hot ass day in this damn house. Why the fuck are you up so early anyway?”

“I have something called a job. You know, a real job. I’ve got breakfast shift. I was—” Her voice cut off suddenly.

Mickey didn’t look up until he heard her dart into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. He stopped scrubbing, got up from the floor and rushed over, pounding on the door with force.

“Mandy?” He heard her gagging from the inside. “You okay?” He kept listening as he heard the toilet flush and the sink run. She opened the door finally.

“Sorry, I just got a little queasy.” She said, wiping her mouth.

He stared at her placing his hands on his hips as he sized her up. "Queasy?" 

"Yeah, queasy." She said irritably. 

Mickey didn't say anything as he kept glaring at her.

"What?" She hissed.

He sized her up suspiciously once more before walking back over to where he was cleaning. He decided not to make any comment about her random, five-second morning flu. 

“I got to get out of this house, I’m gonna go bat shit crazy. I’m not even kidding.” He said returning to his violent scrubbing.

She walked over to the coffee maker pulling some grounds out of the cupboard and filling the pot with water. “I don’t know how much longer you’re going to last.” 

He looked over at her. She was shaking her head, her eyebrows raised. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He asked accusingly.

She stood there watching the coffee brew, her hands gripping either side of the counter. “I mean, you haven't left the house, any house in like... months." 

He was annoyed with her tone, as if she didn't already know the severity of his situation. "No shit. You know I can't fucking go anywhere."

She looked at him sympathetically. "You know I know that better than anyone. I just think maybe you guys should devise a plan or something." 

“I’m not leaving Ian.” He said defensively almost wanting to give up his scrubbing fest and throw his sponge at her. He didn't appreciate an interrogation at the crack of dawn.

“No one asked you to. I’m just saying eventually you two need to do something. You think you're going to live here forever, hiding from the cops?" He heard her trying to change her tone into one that was more affectionate.

He was about to say something but stopped himself before he responded. She dishing out obvious points that he knew she was right about. He knew they couldn’t spend the rest of their lives in the Gallagher household so he could hide from the world and be protected from the law until he peeled over.

“Oh yeah," He said finally, trying to change the focus of the conversation. "And what are you and Mr. Twelve Steps planning for the future?” 

She shrugged, a clear look of worry apparent in her eyes. “That’s something we need to figure out, too. We’ll do it eventually." She flashed her eyes back at him. "You know, I’m just looking out for you. I can tell you're going out of your mind. Even if you guys don't come up with a major plan of action, I think it would be good for you to get out and breath for a while at least."

It was possibly the most in-depth she had spoken to him since she informed him Ian was off his meds. A few moments passed as they stood there in silence. The coffee finished brewing and she poured Mickey a cup, handing it over to him like a peace offering. It was getting brighter outside as he noticed the sunlight making an appearance and lighting up the whole dining area. He watched Mandy take a few sips from her coffee.

"I got to get ready." She said, taking her mug with her on her journey up the stairs.

He decided not ponder too much on what they had discussed but it was still stuck in the back of his head, and would be for the rest of the day. 

\---

Mickey had finished his cleaning in the kitchen and moved on to the living room, reorganizing and spacing out clutter as much as he could. He was making significant progress and it was only a matter of time before someone else in the house woke up and discovered his efforts. He had moved the couch to sweep under it and even pulled apart the couch cushions finding random items that had been forgotten over time: a green hot wheel car, three mismatched socks, numerous beer bottle caps and a five dollar bill. He even scored an untampered cigarette, though it was a menthol which was somewhat disappointing but he still tucked it in his ear to save for later. He had a damp washcloth and was now wiping down a nearly half inch thick layer of dust on the bottom of the coffee table and other flat surfaces, sneezing a few times from the particles entering his nose. He debated pulling out the vacuum and going over the throw rug but he didn’t know if the Gallaghers even owned one, and it would probably wake people up anyways. He was just about to start in on the caked layer of dust atop the entertainment center when he heard light footsteps behind him, once again knowing who it was without having to check.

“Hey, sleepyface.” He said energetically. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Ian asked. Mickey glanced over at him as he was rubbing his eyes, scrunching them as he looked around the room.

He folded the washcloth into a square. “A little summer cleaning, is that such a fucking shock to everybody?" 

“Summer cleaning." He repeated. "Are you feeling okay? Since when do you clean?” He asked skeptically.

“Since I was locked inside a house for months on end.” He replied without hesitation. He heard Ian sigh as his pattering footsteps grew closer behind him. He hummed softly as he could feel the touch of his skin on his shoulders and the sense of his soft lips falling on his collar bone which was enough to make his knees almost give out. He could feel his breath on his neck; it was soothing but also tickled causing the hairs on his skin to rise.

“Morning.” Mickey said, reaching his hand back behind his neck. A smile spread on his face as Ian finally found his lips and began kissing him, his mouth open with an invite as his warm, loose tongue entered in eagerly, He pushed his hips against him from behind and felt the hardness of Ian grow rapidly, his hard cock pressing into him.

“Why don’t you come back to bed?” He asked in a sensual tone that made Mickey want to undress and have his way with him right there in the living room. He breathed in, still holding his stance and keeping his waist locked in place against as Ian's cock continued rising.

“I will,” He said turning to face him. “I’m almost done. I cleaned the entire kitchen and that nasty ass fridge. I think I'll tackle the upstairs after this.” He said proudly. He did feel proud, and also useful. It was better than sitting around all day long being unproductive as everyone in the house came and went, living their own purposeful lives.

Ian smiled. “I’m impressed. You could be my sexy maid.” He winked impishly. 

Mickey howled in obvious faked laughter. “In your fucking dreams Gallagher." In reality, this was an act of flirtation. Mickey was only living up to his harsh demeanor even though he knew he would be Ian's maid at the drop of a dime if that’s truly what he wanted.

He dropped his tone more seriously, shifting the energy of the conversation even though he didn’t want to. "I’m dying in here, man. I’m about to go ape shit if I don’t see the light of day soon.” He looked into his eyes solemnly, not breaking his stare so Ian would understand his point.

Mickey realized he wasn't giving up that easy as he ran his hands over his chest, sneaking them down to his lower abdomen and stuffing his hands in his shirt. He ran them across him, watching his expression which was nothing short of pure delight. Mickey grabbed his wrists lightly but firmly, tracing his eyes as they scanned his body attempting to pull his attention.

His eyebrows raised. “I’m serious.”

Ian let out a small sigh that made his lips roll. He huffed in impatience as his threw his hands to his side. “I know, I know. We need to get out.”

Mickey stayed silent, not moving and still glaring.

Ian began assuring him again. “I know, I hear you. Maybe tonight we can go out for a little bit.” He suggested.

“Go out? Where? It’s not like I can just take a stroll down to the Alibi.” He turned back to the entertainment center abruptly, continuing his dusting and trying to ignore Ian’s pressuring body signals. He realized he wasn't taking no for an answer as he could feel him returning to his neck, inches from his ear and whispering so faintly it sent his blood flowing through other places than his veins. 

“I’m aware." He said genuinely. "I'll think of something, okay? We’ll get out, just you and I. How’s that sound?” He was kissing his neck which was now making his skin crawl.

It was extremely difficult for Mickey to keep pretending to ignore Ian as his hands made their way back around him from behind, floating slowly down to the inside of his pants. They stayed there for a moment until they were stuffed quickly in his boxers. The skin to skin contact on his pulsing erection was almost unbearable as his yearning for Ian's body became more and more intense with every second that passed. He turned around finally, meeting his lips willingly but Ian broke away, making sure to give him a small bite on his bottom lip before they separated. It was then that Mickey knew he had lost the resistance as he finally met his stare, the look in his angelic forest green eyes was absolutely magnetic. He had seen this look countless times and knew exactly what it implied. He was like a predator after its prey, stalking it slyly, waiting for the right moment to pounce. He broke their embrace and watched as he walked away backwards towards the staircase, his index finger wagging him in direction. Mickey obeyed without question following him up the stairs with such excitement he was unsure if they’d even make it to the bedroom.

\---

Mickey woke up to the sound of Franny crying from the next bedroom. He had forgot Debbie even had a baby until this moment as she whaled loudly, her cries echoing through the walls. He turned over, yawning in exhaustion. He looked behind him reaching for Ian but came up empty handed, a slight feeling of disappointment coming over him. He sat up on the edge of the bed rubbing his eyes. He looked out the window wondering what time it was and how long he had been out for. He supposed he had fell into a deep sleep after a copious amount of fantastic sex. He noticed he was nude again as he collected clothing from the floor to put back on for the second time today. He made his way downstairs, the scent of food filling his nostrils instantly which triggered a deep groan from the pit of his stomach. He walked into the kitchen to find Ian shoving something into his fully stuffed backpack. Mickey watched him as he noticed he was there, moving a little quicker than before. He had taken a shower since he had been asleep, his hair still damp but styled nicely. He was wearing dark blue jeans and red plaid flannel looking enticingly attractive.

He smiled at him. "You have a nice nap? You racked out." He was still scrambling around as if he was hiding something.

"Yeah, you wore me out." He chuckled.

"Okay I think I've got everything..." He heard him mumble to himself. 

Mickey felt concerned as he realized he was getting ready to leave somewhere. "Where are you going?"

He mumbled again. "Fuck, a blanket." He walked past him briskly into the living room, Mickey following. "We're going, you and me. It's a surprise."

He felt his stomach drop in elation. "Right now?" He asked eagerly.

Ian nodded, pointing to the stairs. "Go get ready. Get cleaned up and put something nice on."

Mickey felt extremely turned on as Ian was barking orders at him without answering questions, especially when it was regarding an unknown surprise for him. He didn't say anything more but instead made his way up the stairs, heading into the bathroom to start a shower.

\---

Ian had forced him to put on a black baseball cap as well as a thick, grey hooded sweatshirt and a pair of aviator sunglasses. The sun was beginning to set as the glasses worked in his favor but he was melting inside of the clothing layers, wiping sweat from his face every minute or so. They had been walking for a few blocks now which only made his discomfort more intolerable. He knew the unprofessional disguise was completely necessary and didn't object to it but he was so over heated that he was beginning to debate if it was even worth it at this point. He hadn't seen any cops pass by and had the urge to rip out of his sweatshirt. Panting, he began unzipping it but felt Ian's hand stop him forcibly.

"Not yet. Incognito, remember? You can take it off once the sun sets." Ian said assertively. 

He felt he was running a marathon. "God, I'm so hot. How much longer? Please tell me we're going to a fucking pool. Fuck."

He looked at Ian desperately who was laughing in amusement. He flipped him off.

They walked for a few more blocks as the sun eventually made its way behind the trees and the night sky emerged. Ian's full backpack had been clanking with every step. After a bit more walking he made a sharp right turn into some foliage. They made their way through some shrubbery on a short distanced walking trail. Before they even reached the break in the trees Mickey knew exactly where they were. 

“Oh shit, the baseball field?! No way...” He was pleasantly surprised, a giant grin hitting his face. " I should have known."

Ian nodded looking pleased with himself. “Yep. Our spot.” 

They walked across the field and inside the dugout where Mickey watched him fiddle with some things in his backpack, looking like he was trying to be discreet. He finally had the chance to take off his glasses and remove his sweatshirt. He looked around him checking out his surroundings and feeling somewhat weary as he didn't want to be seen. Thankfully there was no sign of anyone whatsoever. 

“Turn around.” Ian ordered, making a fast spinning motion with his fingers. 

“Turn around?” He repeated him.

Ian sighed. “Will you just do it?”

Mickey laughed, putting his hands up in front of him. “Alright, alright.” He turned, facing the other direction.

He waited for a few moments, lighting up a cigarette and staring up to the sky. It was turning out to be a gorgeous summer night. The stars were immensely clear in the hazy sky and the sound a few distant crickets echoed in the bushes. He felt anxious as he was unsure what kind of tricks Ian had up his sleeve. He wanted so badly to turn around and see what he was up to but he tried his best not to ruin the surprise. He heard him walk out of the dugout and over to the left side of him, loud clanking noises coming from his backpack again. He almost turned his head slightly when he heard Ian shout behind him. 

“Don’t look! I’m serious!”   
  
He knew Mickey far too well. 

He began shaking his leg growing very impatient and was almost done with his cigarette. He debated smoking another until Ian finally spoke.

“Okay.” He said, pure excitement clear in his tone. “Turn around.”

Mickey did in almost instant, looking down and witnessing the sight before him. 

“Surprise.” Ian said sweetly. "I owe you a date."

Mickey felt a rush of goosebumps break out on his skin as his heart fluttered in astonishment. He had laid out a blanket on the ground with a whole spread of food for the both of them. Steak, salad, a baked potato and a few dinner rolls, complete with dining ware and even a single lit tea candle. Mickey was speechless as he couldn't quite form the right words to say. No one in his entire life had ever gone to such lengths to please him or put in this amount effort to make him happy. His heart was overfilled with joy as he observed Ian's display of care and love. 

He seemed to be scratching his head nervously. “That’s why I wanted to leave the house so fast." He said shyly. "I didn’t want it to get cold. It’s not very hot but it’s still pretty warm.” He sat down and patted the space across from him inviting him to join. “Come on.”

Mickey walked over to the blanket slowly, still in shock. He was not expecting anything like this and was overwhelmed with happiness.

“Oh shit, I almost forgot.” He reached back into the backpack pulling out a fifth of Jameson and two shot glasses. He opened the cap, pouring two shots and handing one over to Mickey. “It aint no Sizzlers, but it works.” 

He kept studying the small little picnic dinner Ian had created, still in disbelief

“Fuck Sizzlers! This is better than Sizzlers. Sizzlers doesn’t have liquor.” He smiled as Ian's contagious laughter rang in his ears. "This is like... How did you pull this off?" He asked wondering how he managed to do all this without him noticing. 

"You fell asleep. I saw my chance so I ran to the store and cooked this shit in like two hours flat. Pretty slick, huh?" He smirked. 

Mickey nodded slowly in agreement still eyeing his set up. "Slick indeed." 

They dove into their food. He didn’t realize until now how hungry he was until now as he began scarfing his share down but still savoring every bite.

“Damn, Gallagher. I didn’t know you could cook like this.” He said finally breaking the silence between mouthfuls of food. 

Ian laughed. “Yeah well, there’s another thing you didn’t know. See? This is the shit we never got to do before, you know? Get to know each other and stuff. Normal dating shit.”

Mickey agreed. “I know, man. So much shit has happened in the last few years. I don’t know if we’ve ever even sat down alone and had a meal together. Pretty fucking sad.”

There was silence. He looked up from his plate and watched as Ian was frozen, a steak and fork in each hand. “It is fucking sad." He said suddenly as he came to this realization, pointing his utensils sharply with each word. "But this is the first time, and most definitely not the last." He took another bite of steak, pointing his fork again as an idea seemed to pop into his head. "I would make you dinner every night.” 

Mickey felt his goosebumps returning. “Every night, huh?”

Ian nodded in assurance. “Hell yeah.”

Mickey was deep in thought for a moment before he put his utensils down, staring at him reluctantly. He felt tears coming on but he refused to let them build up in his eyes. “I don’t know if we’ll ever have that.”

Ian looked down at the ground hesitantly. “Sure we will.”

Mickey spoke sternly in frustration but made sure not to raise his voice. It was an intimate moment that he didn't want to spoil. “How? I broke out of prison. I’m wanted everywhere by everyone and I always will be. I mean, is this what you want? This life? My life? I can’t do shit, Ian. I have to--" He felt the tears coming stronger but he made a valiant effort to prevent them from escaping down his face. "I have to live my life hiding forever. Is that what you want?" 

Ian looked at him sincerely. “Yes, that is what I want and I've decided that. I know what your life consists of, you don't need to remind me. We’ll try and figure something out in the long run but for right now you’re living with me and—“

“Yeah I’m living with you, in your house, with your whole family, plus my sister. Are we just going to sit there forever?" He asked. He realized he was repeating some of the things Mandy had brought to his attention earlier that morning.

“It’s working out so far isn’t it?” Ian asked, taking another bite of his steak.

“Yeah,” He said in agreement. “But it’s not going to work out until the end of fucking the time. I owe you my life, getting me of the shithole I was in but I can’t expect you take care of me—“

“I am going to take care of you.” He said simply. He was flattered by his certainty but his lack of concern for the future was alarming.

“Okay but I can’t live locked up in a house forever.” He said honestly.

“You don’t want to be with me then?” He said almost throwing his fork on the plate.

“Ah,” He said holding his finger up to him. “Don’t put words in my fucking mouth, you know damn well I want to be with you. I’m saying we can’t live this way forever. It’s not healthy like, it's not good for us. We're going to lose it.”

Ian looked puzzled. “Okay, well where would you like to go, Mick? You tell me. Because it's going be like this no matter where we end up.” He poured another round of shots. 

“Nope,” Said Mickey wagging his finger in front of his face. "Not true. There’s one place we can go."

Ian pondered for a moment. “Mexico?” He whined.

Mickey didn’t answer but held his shot up as if he was toasting him and winked enthusiastically. 

“That’s just unrealistic. Go back?” He was still whining. 

Mickey scowled. “Yeah, go back. What’s unrealistic is us spending the rest of our lives in your house hidden from the world. I could have done that in prison.”

Ian took his shot but returned a hard gaze back to him. "Do we really have to talk about this right now? Can't this wait?"

Mickey almost replied but stopped himself. He didn’t argue with him and he knew it wasn’t the time since he didn’t want to sour this much needed outing for the both of them.

After they finished eating Mickey helped him clean the mess and gather things back in his backpack, watching him pull out a six pack of canned beer. Ian walked towards the dugout, stumbling and tripping on his own feet. Mickey followed and laughed a little too hard. "Woah there, turbo. You feeling that whiskey?" He made fun of him but he was feeling the whiskey just as much as he was. Ian snapped his fingers at the bar that was now over their heads. The notorious pull-up bar they had always used to compete each other. This time, Mickey wasn't up for much of a competition. He knew Ian would easily be victorious and over power his strength. Mickey was about to jump up and start his rep when an eruption of fizzing liquid exploded on him, followed by a beer can placed on his lips. He realized what was happening and glanced over at Ian who had also had put a beer to his lips. They chugged in unison, Mickey finishing first as usual. That was one game he was positive he would always come out ahead. They laughed together for a moment before Mickey caught his eye, staring at him with sudden unavoidable lust. The fire in Ian's eyes was magnetic and addicting. He broke free from the stare as he jumped on the bar and starting their classic pull-up tradition. It was as he suspected, only being able to complete a few pulls before he grew weak and his hand throbbed. It was still in pain from the brawl they had the other night. Ian smirked, pushing him aside and powering through well over ten of them with total ease. Mickey rolled his eyes, shoving him playfully.

"Yeah, yeah we get it army. Show off." He pulled out another beer from the six pack, cracking it open and taking a few gulps. He looked around beyond the dugout, analyzing the rest of the field and taking in the world around him. It was the first time in months he had been out, away from the confinement of some sort of wall, trapping inside. He exhaled, taking in a deep breath of air making sure to cherish the crispness of the warm summer night. Though he was only a few blocks away from their temporary home, this was the most free he had felt since he had came back from Mexico. He looked over at Ian who he caught watching him, staring blankly as if he was the most perfect thing he had ever seen. Mickey was certain he was blushing and his stomach began flipping in knots of joy.

"Thank you so much for taking me out here, for getting me out of the house." He glanced at him and felt comforted by his warming smile. "You tried so hard to make me feel good and that's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. No one has ever loved me like you do. Thank you for loving me." It might have been the alcohol but Mickey couldn't hold back his tears anymore. They fell from his eyes and ran down his cheeks, the light warm breeze making them cool on his face. "I just..." He dropped his head, beginning to weep to himself. "I just don't want to lose you." He said staring at the gound bashfully.

“Hey.” Ian said in a soft, comforting voice. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. We’ve done enough of that. I took here so we could get away from all the bad shit. So we could just forget about all the fucked up shit going on and just be together. To be normal.” He walked up to Mickey now extending his hand and placing it gently on his face. “And you don’t have to thank me for anything. You're not going to lose me, ever again. You're the love of my life, Mickey.” He kissed him on his forehead like he always did at the moments where it felt so right.

Mickey squinted his eyes rubbing the wetness from them as he sniffed and tried to pull it together. He knew Ian had worked hard planning this special moment for them and he didn’t want to bring the energy down. He was starting to understand more with each day that Ian was going to be with him no matter how awful his life was, every single step of the way, and that was more than he could ever ask for. 

They sat together for a while, drinking and soaking in the tranquility. They knew when they returned it would come to an end. Mickey shotgunned another beer with him and by that time they were both extremely inebriated. As the night went on they somehow transitioned from pull-ups to piggy-back rides, climbing on each other’s backs and breaking out in fits of laughter as they hit the ground when the other lost their balance. Mickey performed better than Ian even though he had more than a few inches of height in his favor. After a few clumsy attempts they both managed to hit the ground, laying out on the grassy field and staring up at the stars. 

“Remember the last time we did this?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah, I remember.” Ian reached in his pocket, lighting up a cigarette. He took a drag and passed it to him. 

He took the cigarette taking a long hit before he spoke. “You remember the day after when we went different ways?”

Ian didn’t say anything. Mickey could feel that he was worried he was going to go on a rant about how he left him again. He wanted to, but again reminded himself that he needed to keep the mood positive.

“I was so scared…” He made his voice shake and tremble purposely. “I was so scared that I was never going to have that nine inch cock again.”

Ian laughed hysterically and Mickey joined him. “But now,” he said trying to contain his laughter. “Now, I get to have it all the time.” 

Ian nodded. “Yep, anytime you want.” The seriousness in his tone was enough to make Mickey get a hard on.

He figured that was his que. He got up from the grass in a drunken effort trying to stand on his feet without losing balance. He succeeded and walked back to the dugout encouraging Ian to follow.

“Come here ginger.” He said, still laughing. He observed as Ian followed, a giddy smile growing on his face. He was practically skipping behind him.

Mickey turned around suddenly, shoving Ian into the fence wall, smiling in accomplishment as he realized he wasn’t expecting it. He reached his hands down to his belt and unbuckled it in a matter of seconds. It was the same belt he had always worn so he had it down to a complete art, ripping it from his jeans. 

He could tell Ian was longing to reach his lips but Mickey didn’t want to let him have them. He made his way down to his waist and pulled his jeans and boxers down with extreme force. Lucky for him, getting him hard wouldn’t take much effort. His cock was already in its full form. He wrapped his lips around the head generously as Ian gave out a moan of pleasure. After years of practice he knew exactly what he liked and how to make him get off rather fast. He ran his mouth down the shaft of him, gaining speed steadily as he looked up to see his reaction. He was leaning his head back, his eyes closed biting his own lip in satisfaction. He kept sucking, getting him completely lubricated in his saliva, now using his hand to help guide him further to climax. He was stroking vigorously now taking breaks to jerk him off so he could see his face, making sure every nerve in his body was coming alive. He felt confidence as Ian wrapped his hands around his head shoving him farther down his throat. Mickey not having a gag reflex was something Ian always took advantage of. There were only a few more lengthy strokes before Mickey could feel his dick getting rock hard, pulsing inside of his mouth just waiting to erupt. He grabbed his hips now for grip, pushing him in and out of his wet mouth. Strings of saliva were pouring from the bottom of his chin where spit had been collecting, seeping down his neck and falling onto the dirt. Ian grabbed Mickey’s head again, pulling him further down his throat, begging him to go deeper. 

“Oh fuck. I’m about to come, don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.” Ian’s tone rang in pure ecstasy. Though Mickey’s mouth was occupied he let out some groans of encouragement hoping it would speed the process and make him come even harder. That seemed to have worked as he broke out in a loud, symphonic moan of relief. At that moment Mickey felt his rock hard cock pulsating harder than ever as a mouthful of his cum filled throat. He broke away slowly, Ian moaning once more as he pulled from him. He got back on two feet looking at him for praise. He was leaning on the side of the wall, his pants still around his ankles and a look of total exhaustion on his face. He stared blankly in the distance.

“You alright?” Mickey laughed as he reached down for his pants helping him regain himself.

Ian came back to life, looking at him and smiling, his eyes in a glossy daze as he seemed remarkably relaxed. “You give the best head.” He said in a sigh. He was moving now, slowly buckling his belt at a leisurely pace.

“You’ve always said that.” He wiped his mouth reaching in his pocket for a much needed cigarette. “You ready to go? I think if we drink anymore we’ll end up passing out.”

Ian laughed. “Yeah, I’m so ready to sleep right now. Let’s head home so we can cuddle, tiny spoon.” He rubbed his fingers in his hair, tussling it purposely.

Mickey slapped his arm playfully. “You’re damn right I’m a tiny spoon, I’m not ashamed.”

They made sure they grabbed all of their things before setting out on their journey. As they walked further away from the field, Mickey took one last glance at the dugout before heading out. It held so many heartfelt memories. He would never forget that place and all the amazing times he shared there with Ian, the man he loved. They continued walking, making their way through the bushes and back out onto the sidewalk. Mickey was about to suit back up into his undercover attire when suddenly there was a bright white light shining at their feet. They both stopped in their tracks immediately. Mickey looked up, his heart nearly coming out of his throat as it pounded with fear. He could hear Ian breathing rapidly in panic.

“Evening, boys.” The police officer shined his light in both of their faces. Mickey was so terrified he felt sick. So sick that he leaned over the dirt, aiming towards the ground and let out a projecting flow of vomit.


	15. Good Times, Bad Times.

  


**Ian’s perspective**

Ian knew that Mickey became sick next to him but he couldn’t move. He was frozen, his eyes fixed on the cop as he sized him up slowly, still shining his light in and out of his face. It was bright but he couldn’t even blink. When he was younger he had a habit of peeing himself when he was this scared. He hadn’t done this since he was about nine years old but at this very moment he thought he might relive it. Two minutes ago Ian was stumbling through the bushes barely able to walk properly he was so hammered but it was now he became stone cold sober.

The cop shined his light on Mickey. “Woah there, son. You alright?” He leaned over, putting his hand on Mickey’s back. Ian was actually grateful Mickey was halfway on the ground vomiting his guts out. This made it more difficult for his face to be recognized. Mickey responded, mumbling something he couldn’t make out.

“You boys been drinking tonight?” The officer asked, staring at both of them with suspicion. It was pitch black outside but Ian caught a glimpse of the officer’s badge as his flashlight quickly shined over it. _Kelly._

Officer Kelly pointed the light right back in Ian’s eyes, this time keeping it there in his face. “Have you been drinking?” He repeated sternly. 

Ian cleared his throat as if he had a reasonable answer. He knew from experience that telling the truth was his best bet. He had grown up with Frank and Monica who both usually got screwed when they lied to law enforcement. He knew if Mickey was able to speak he would tell him to lie but he was trying to handle this in the most sensible way he could. He figured if he did most of the talking and played it cool it was in their best interest.

“Uhm…” He was squinting at the light now, not able to see anything beyond it. He wasn’t sure where to look. “Yes. We are. I mean, we were.” He was stuttering over his words.

“You know, that’s illegal and I could charge you both with public intoxication?” He asked, his voice deep and demanding. Ian nodded violently.

“What are you boys doing out here and where are you off to?” He asked Ian. Mickey was on his knees now clenching his stomach and still hurling.

“We came out here just to hangout. We’re on our way home now.” He tried to be heard over Mickey’s heaving.

“You two just came out here to get your buzz on, huh? What’s your name son?” He had his light back in Ian’s eyes again. “Hey, red, I’m talking to you.” He barely gave him a chance to respond.

“Ian Gallagher.” He said quietly.

“Gallagher? "Officer Kelly smirked. "You Frank’s boy?”

He figured that was coming. “Yes.” He said trying to answer all of his questions directly without having to go into any detail. He wasn't taking his name down which was a good sign.

He chuckled loudly. “You Gallaghers and your booze. I’ve arrested your dad few times.” He shook his head. 

Ian’s gut wrenched as he pointed his flashlight down to Mickey who was still gagging. He wanted so badly to help him but he was still locked in place, unable to move a muscle.

“Who’s your friend?” He asked. “He doesn’t look too hot.”

This is when the whole truth and honesty policy Ian was going with had completely vanished. “This is my brother, Lip.” He said confidently. 

“Lip? What kind of name is Lip?” He asked curiously.

“Short for Phillip.” Ian’s eyes shot down at Mickey. He wasn’t sure he could hear their conversation from the ground but he hoped he could go along with it. His stomach was in knots of anxiety.

“How many of there are you? Five, six now? Frank Gallagher needs to quit reproducing.” Officer Kelly’s eyes met Ian’s again. He laughed uncomfortably out of nerves and didn’t answer his question, assuming it was rhetorical. He wagged his flashlight towards Mickey again.

“You should take your brother home. He could have alcohol poisoning, you know.” Normally Ian would probably laugh at a ridiculous assumption like this, Mickey Milkovich getting alcohol poisoning, but the thought of laughter didn’t even cross his mind. “Listen, I could write you both up with some charges and take you down to Cook county if I really wanted to...”  
  
The sun had been down for a while now but Ian began to break out in a sweat. If they took him down to station surely every officer in the Chicago police department would identify Mickey. 

“But tonight I’m feeling nice. My shift ends soon anyway.” He looked up at Ian. “I never let your father go, you know that? I always detained him and took him to jail.”

Ian laughed nervously again. “That’s good.” He wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Take your-” He looked down at Mickey again but his eyes shot back to Ian. “Brother… home and make sure he’s alright. Tell me you won’t end up like your shit storm of a daddy?”

“No sir.” Ian felt an overwhelming wave of relief fall over him and almost wanted to collapse onto his knees and break down in tears.

“Well, go on.” Officer Kelly moved his way out of their path. “You boys want a ride home?” He asked nicely.

Ian shook his head in refusal. “Oh no, sir. Thank you. You’ve done enough, really. We’re fine walking.”

“Alright then.” He said. “Be safe and no more drinking in the field or in public for that matter, you understand me?”

Ian nodded violently again. He almost wanted to salute him. That, or kiss his feet in gratitude. “Yes sir.” He bent down putting his arms around Mickey, guiding him down the rest of the trail.

“Oh and one more thing.” Officer Kelly shined his flashlight on them again as Ian whipped his head around. “You should be a little more discreet about receiving oral sex from your-” His hand broke out in finger quotes. “Brother. That’s another charge. It’s called public indecency.” His light flashed one more time before he disappeared in the distance.

Ian had been shaking in terror but now he was just downright embarrassed.

“Holy fuck.” He heard Mickey say under his breath. Ian watched him wipe his mouth for the second time that night. Suddenly he stood up as if he had been magically been healed. He put his aviators back on and began strutting down the street.

“Mick, what the fuck, are you okay?” Ian asked standing in the middle of the sidewalk watching Mickey walk boastfully in front of him.

“I’m peachy.” He said. Ian could hear a smile in his voice. He jogged to catch up with him.

“That was so fucking close, man.” He was laughing uncontrollably now as Ian felt him reach into his own pocket. “Holy shit, what a rush.” He collected himself a little now as he lit his cigarette, looking behind him cautiously.

Ian still felt a little nervous but the feeling of relief was stronger at this point. “We would have been so fucked.” He was gripping his chest, his heart still pounding like mad. “I’ve never seen you get sick from drinking. Ever. That was a first.” He looked down at him, admiring his cocky attitude and how adorable he looked strutting down the street with confidence. It was sexy and reminded Ian of the times he had walked home with him after he had been in juvy for a while. It made him smile as the memory was one he would never forget.

Mickey was laughing in amusement. "Me? Sick from drinking? Yeah fucking right. That was all part of the plan baby." He looked back at Ian flipping his sunglasses up, revealing his eyes. “I cant believe you told him I was your brother. I'll give you props for that one.” He said passing his cigarette to him. “And that pervy fucker, He was watching me blow you the whole fucking time. Fucking crooked ass cops.”

Ian shrugged. “Eh, he got a free show and you’re not in prison for life. Tell me that’s not a fair trade.”

Mickey laughed. “A free show… A good fucking free show.” He winked. Ian felt his heart skip a beat as it still thumped in his chest.

They walked for a few more blocks in a much faster pace than when they had originally traveled to the field. As they approached the house Lip was sitting on the outside stairs smoking. He was in a wife beater that appeared to be torn in several places. He looked dirty and his hair was mangled.

“The fuck happened to you?” Mickey asked before Ian had a chance to.

Lip shook his head. “I got into it with some guy at Patsy’s. He's been harassing Mandy for weeks now. He keeps asking to take her out and won't leave her the fuck alone. I told him to fuck off. That didn't go so well.” He threw his smoke off the porch.

“You okay?” Ian asked.

“Did you win?” Mickey said after him.

Lip ignored him. “Yeah I’m fine. What’s another few battle wounds?” He smiled. “She’s upstairs, locked up in the room. She won’t talk to me. She says I embarrassed her and made a scene. I don’t get it. She’s been acting so weird lately... One minute she’s all over me, can’t take her hands off me. We get along great, and then it seems like two minutes later she’s snapping at me for nothing, wanting to rip my head off. It’s not like her.”

Mickey interjected. “I don’t know that pretty much sounds like my sister.” 

Ian rolled his eyes. “You’re a big help.” He turned back to his brother. “Girls are weird sometimes. I suck at giving advice when it comes to them. It’s a little out of my realm.”

Lip laughed, then changed the subject. “Where the hell were you two? Fucking at the dugout again?” 

Ian’s jaw dropped in reflex. “Good thing the cops didn’t find you.” He said, winking at Mickey. They both didn’t say anything as Ian felt warmness spread through his cheeks. He saw that Mickey was also blushing, looking away nervously pretending to be distracted but doing a poor job of it.

“On that note, we’re going inside.” Ian began walking into the house as Mickey followed very close behind. 

“Holy shit, you were!” He heard Lip say, clearly entertained. He shut the door behind him.

Ian sat on the couch, about to sprawl out when he realized he was on top of an unconscious Frank. 

"Oops." He said unapologetically. He debated not getting up and sitting on him anyways but his smell wasn't very inviting.

"Are you fucking serious?" Mickey said, his arms out towards Frank's still body. His roaring snores were enough to clear the room. He still had a beer bottle gripped in his hand and had the word “Slut” written in black ink on his forehead. "If he wakes up I'm kicking him the fuck out."

"Go for it." Ian said walking into the kitchen. "He'll probably be out like that until morning." 

He opened the fridge and found two more beers which were probably Frank's but he didn't care. He pulled them out and handed one to Mickey. They both had been drinking heavily for the past few weeks, mostly because there was nothing better to do and it made the boring moments more enjoyable. Tonight was a special occasion as they had the opportunity to go out and experience their very first make shift date. Also, getting stopped by the police and not getting sent to jail was a celebration in itself. 

They sat together at the table until Lip finally came in. He grabbed a cigarette from Ian’s pack sitting on the table but he smacked his hand away.

"Bro, I have none left." Lip said desperately.

Ian widened his eyes. "I only have three!"

"Come on man, I had a shitty day." He said trying to reason with him.

"Alright," He threw one at him. "You can have one if you can run down the store for me and get some more." He dropped his voice. "And maybe some beer, too."

"Are you for real right now?" He asked him.

"Please? I'll pay. Here. By yourself a pack, too." He reached in his pocket pulling out some cash and handing it over to him. "Come on, Lip. Please?"

"Yeah okay let's make the recovering alcoholic go get the booze." He looked annoyed but accepted the cash. “I’m keeping the change.”

\---

Lip had came back from the store and had given them their much needed beer. The night carried on as Ian sat across from Mickey talking and ending their day together. It was a meaningful moment between the two of them as they had such an incredible night. It could have all went South but thankfully they dodged a rather large, life altering bullet. Ian couldn't stop himself from staring up at his boyfriend every few seconds, admiring his handsome face and perfect features. He still had a few cuts and bruises on him but he was as beautiful as ever and he felt he was the luckiest man in the world. Their hands were intertwined and they played a flirtatious game of footsie beneath the table. He couldn't wait to get him upstairs in bed and conclude the night with a proper ending. 

"So," Mickey said, leaning back in his chair. "Why are you so against going to Mexico?" His words were slurring. 

Ian sighed and sunk back in his chair dramatically, not wanting to engage in this conversation. "What's with you and this Mexico idea? You just got out of that shithole, why would you want to ever go back?" He belched loudly realizing how intoxicated he was.

"It was a shithole because you weren't with me. It was actually pretty fucking nice. The weather, the beach, the atmosphere. A lot better than here." He took another sip of his beer, some dripped on his shirt. Ian giggled.

"I don't know,” He said hesitantly. “I don't see why we can't just stay here." 

He didn't see the problem with it and didn't understand why Mickey was trying to push the issue. He felt life was simple here, safe in the comfort of their home.

"Okay, Ian, what's your fucking plan then? Let's hear what you think we should do." He slammed his beer bottle on the counter, Ian sensing his impatience. He could tell Mickey was drunk also by his sudden feistiness.

He shrugged. "Honestly, I don't have one right now. Will you get off my ass about it? It's not an overnight thing. We have plenty of time to figure shit out. Everything is good right now."

He scowled. "Get off your ass about it? Ian, this is my fucking life we're talking about. Like, the rest of my life."

This offended him and he straightened his posture. "So you're not happy with me?" 

Ian watched him roll his eyes. "There you go again, putting words in my mouth. Would you just listen? It's not about us, it's about spending the rest of my life trapped in your family's house. Who knows what can happen? Your sister said you need a plan, my sister said we need a plan--"

"So let's just listen to everyone else?" He asked pursing his lips tightly. He was starting to become irritated also.

"Yeah, when they have a solid point." Mickey picked up his bottle and chugged the remainder of beer inside. "Down there, we're free. We don’t have to answer to anyone, we don't have to be spooked everywhere we go. There's a life waiting for us there. What the fuck are you so afraid of?" His tone was accusatory. 

"I'm not afraid of anything. I just don't see why we have to change our lives like that. We're fine here. Why change it?" Ian asked sincerely. 

He meant what he was questioning. He didn't think there was anything wrong with their current situation.

"Fine?! We got stopped by a cop an hour ago. Next time we're not going to be so fucking lucky. And you wouldn't be changing shit. I don't know if you remember but my life is this way because of you." Ian watched his expression. He had that look on his face where his eyebrows raised over halfway up his forehead and his tone became harsh, his eyes piercing. 

Ian cracked open another beer wanting to ignore him but he knew that would only escalate their back forth banter even more. "Don't start with that shit again. You're always trying to make me feel guilty." 

"You should feel guilty! You fucking left!" He threw his arms at his side.

Ian backed up in his chair trying to put some distance between them. "I know that! Fuck, why don't you make me feel even shittier like you always do?!"

At that very moment Mandy came running down the stairs. Ian watched her look at both of them. "Everything okay?" She asked. 

Mickey ignored her and continued. "You want to be with me and live your life with me or not?"

"Of course I do!" Ian shouted defensively. 

He pounded his fist on the table. "Then fucking do it! Do something for me for once!"

"For once? I've been taking care of your ass for a month now!" He shot out of his seat looking down at him.

He smirked. "Yeah, it's such a fucking chore isn't it? Just like it was when you went psychotic a few years back. It's no fucking walk in the park, is it Gallagher?"

"Oh, okay. Hold that against me. Here we go with the fucking low blows." Ian began to turn away, still ignoring Mandy's presence.

"Fuck it." He learned back in his chair, clearly giving up. "Just fuck it. You don't see my point, it's like talking to a brick wall."

Ian could feel his anger rising. "I do see your point but it's easier said than done to just drop everything and walk away. I grew up here--"

"So did I, genius, so that's no and excuse. What the fuck do you have here for you anyway? You don't have shit." Mickey’s words continued to slur but Ian understood what he was saying.

He walked back over to where he was sitting staring down at him again. "You want us to leave everything behind?"

"Again, I'm not leaving shit. And yeah, that simple. Come with me, or don't. Back out and leave. I knew it would come to this. I fucking knew it." He looked away from him shaking his head.

"Don't assume shit, I never said that I wasn't going! I need time to think about it!" He placed his hands on his forehead stressfully knowing he wouldn’t like what he said. 

"You didn't have to think about it the night we first saw each other again when you promised me you wouldn't leave me, or did you forget about that?" 

Ian looked down at his big eyes which were filling with tears. His heart hurt. He didn't know what to say.

"That's what I thought. So have your little time to think it over while I sit and rot in this fucking crowded ass house for even longer so you can live your marry happy life without me like you always have. You don't give a shit about me, I know that now." He got in Ian's face but then nudged him out of the way causing him to take a step back from the force.

Hearing those words sent a knife through his heart. It was a combination of the hurtful words from Mickey and his alcohol level that was beginning to send him over the edge. 

"Oh shut the fuck up Mickey!" He shouted, following behind him so closely he was almost touching him. "Don't act like it's so bad. You get to live here for free, get fucked whenever you want and you’re waited on hand and foot." He hissed in his ear.

He watched Mickey almost fall but gripped the counter to save him from going down. "Yeah sounds a lot like fucking prison, doesn’t it?!" He turned around and placed his hands on his chest, shoving him back a few more steps.

"Guys, calm down." Mandy was still watching them as if she could prevent anything from happening.

Ian stepped right back up to Mickey, getting inches from his face again. "Really? You're really going to say that? After everything I've done for you?" He gritted his teeth as he spoke. He had the desire to shove him back but tried to control his anger and remain calm. "Fuck off, you dick." He turned back away from him.

"No, fuck you Ian!" He jumped in the front of him staring straight in his eyes. "I'm tired of you and your fucking bullshit. You’re a fucking pussy and you always have--"

"Guess what? I'm tired of your bullshit too!" He cut him off. He had heard enough. "So why don't you get your shit and get the fuck out?! Oh wait, that's right. You can't." He instantly regretted his statement but he knew he was too far ahead to stop now. The alcohol had hot blood surging through him and these were things he would never say if he wasn’t drinking.

"Yeah, you can go fuck yourself, you fucking low life." His tone was malicious and meant to be hurtful. Ian hated when he spoke like that, trying to make him pissed off.

Ian smirked again. "Maybe I will. Why don't you drop the hard-ass Southside demeanor, it doesn't make your dick any bigger."

He flashed Ian a grin that frightened him. "You're a little fucking bitch. Can't even live up to your fucking promises! What kind of man are you?!" He was in his face again and kept shoving him into the counter.

"Jesus Christ, what's a man got to do to get some decent sleep around here? You people are animals!" Frank shouted from the living room.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP FRANK!" Both him and Mickey yelled in unison.

"Look at you big man, putting your hands on your own boyfriend. Look, I can do it too.” He gave him one solid push which caused him to smash into the kitchen table. It moved back a few inches making the beer bottles on the surface to fall, rolling off the top and crashing onto the floor, shattering instantly. “Grow the fuck up!” He yelled, walking towards the back door. “I'm done with this. I quit. You fucking win Mickey." He could barely talk as he stumbled, reaching for the handle. He wasn’t sure if he could even walk outside none the less leave the house.

He heard Mandy trying to console him. "Ian, don't leave. You're shit faced."

"Shhh!" He hushed, turning towards her. "Be quiet... I'm leaving. I'm not dealing with your fucking shit." He waved a finger in her face but couldn't seem to stand straight.

Through blurred vision he saw Mickey getting ready to charge at him but Mandy blocked him. "Go ahead, leave you fucking asshole! Do everyone a fucking favor!"

“Shut up, Mickey! God damn!” She was shoving him now but it wasn’t nearly as affective as Ian’s push.

"Yeah, yeah I've heard it all before. Have fun jerking off alone into your pillow tonight you fucking prick." He was about to slam the door behind him but heard Mickey's voice half screaming half crying.

"Yep, run away from everything like you always do. Fucking figures you SELFISH PIECE OF SHIT!"

Just as Ian smashed the door shut there was a huge, earsplitting crash as something glass exploded on the other side. He assumed it was a beer bottle Mickey had thrown in anger. Ian stumbled down the back steps, missing the last one and falling on the cold hard ground. He groaned in agony and stayed there for a moment with his head planted in the earth. He rolled around onto his back, staring up to the sky which happened to be spinning in all different directions. He wanted so badly to crawl back up the steps, walk inside and hold his boyfriend. To hug him tightly in his arms, to apologize and tell him everything was going to be okay. To kiss him all over and go to bed with him, just like he had wanted to for the last few hours.

"But I'm mad." He said to himself.

He got up from the ground and began walking. He had absolutely nowhere to go as he had no friends and didn’t go places. The Alibi came to his mind but he knew it was closed by this time. He walked around the side of the house trying his best to stay balanced. He made it quite literally three houses down until he ended up at the foot of Kev and Vee's porch. He stammered up the stairs, knocking on the door loudly. Not but five seconds later Vee answered the door in nothing but a leopard print robe, her neon pink bra and underwear showing through it.

"Ian? This better be good, it's two in the God damn morning." One hand was on her hip as she sized him from the ground up, one leg locked sharply on the floor, the classic Vee stance. "What the fuck! You look like shit. Why are you all dirty? What's wrong?" She began wiping his shirt off, dirt and grass flinging everywhere. "You smell like a mother fucking brewery. Or the other five regulars at the Alibi. Shit.”

"Can I..." He felt tears start to spew uncontrollably out of his eyes. There was no stopping them and he didn’t try to. He felt so empty that all he could think to do was cry. He was also very drunk which made his feelings more intensified. "Can I stay here? I don't want to go home." He sniffled. "I don't want to go there, nobody likes me there."

Vee’s whole attitude changed immediately. "Oh sweet boy everyone loves you! Come on, come inside." She put her arms around his shoulders and guided him to the couch. "Is this about that curly haired kid with all the gay vocabulary? I never liked him anyway..." Ian heard her voice trail off as he plopped on the couch not even attempting to stay awake and chat. He leaned over, falling onto his side and instantly submersed into a drunken coma.


	16. Shattered.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Chapter is very graphic because of violence. Proceed with caution.
> 
> Also, I was in a bit of a rush typing this one so I'll add more detail soon.

  
**Ian's perspective.**

Ian woke up to the sunlight blaring in his face, burning his left cheek. His mouth was dry and he needed water like his life depended on it. It was hard to move as he slowly rose to sit up right. He stretched his arms and legs looking at his surroundings finally realizing he was at Kev and Vee’s house. He vaguely remembered stumbling over to there the night before, extremely intoxicated. Parts of the night were coming back to him as he tried to stand up, grabbing his head as it throbbed in pain. He was nauseas and could barely stand without feeling sick. He reached in his pockets for his phone to check the time but he didn’t have it. He couldn't recall much of anything from the night before but he knew that it mostly likely didn't end well, hence why he woke up on Vee's couch. He remembered he and Mickey got into some sort of argument where a decent amount of alcohol was consumed and many hurtful words were exchanged. It was enough to make Ian want to leave which wasn't a normal occurrence, even when they were fighting. Some of the things Mickey had said to him were becoming more clear in his memory.

He had to get home and check on him. He was still mad and his feelings were genuinely hurt, but he still wanted to see him and make sure he was alright. He yawned, walking out the door and making his way back down to the house. He retraced his steps going to the backyard to retrieve his phone. Thankfully found it lying in the grass undamaged, only slightly wet from the morning dew. He wiped it off, staring at the screen to find there were eight missed calls from Lip. Concerned he dialed his number calling him back.

"Dude what the fuck?" He heard Lip's stern voice. "I've been calling you for an hour. Are you home? Can you check upstairs and see if Mandy overslept? Her shift started at noon and people are blowing up my phone."

"Noon? It's afternoon?" He groaned, rubbing his eyes.

Going upstairs to find Mandy also meant going upstairs to find Mickey. 

"Yeah it's afternoon. Can you go wake her up? Fiona's probably going to be at Patsy's in an hour so if she moves her ass she'll beat her there." He was half yelling now as his voice was barely heard over loud clanking noises from his shop in the background.

Ian groaned again, shuffling up the stairs. He walked in Frank's bedroom where her and Lip had been staying. He peered in, still holding the phone to his ear. Unfortunately only Frank was in there sleeping ever so soundly and snoring obnoxiously.

He walked into his own room where he found no one at all, not even Liam. This was odd to him as he grew a little worried then checking Fiona's room which was also empty as well as Debbie’s. No Mickey or Mandy.

Ian was wide awake now.

"Hello? Ian, wake her up." He heard Lip on the other side of the phone.

He ran downstairs checking the living room frantically. Nobody was home expect Frank.

"She's..." He ran to the front door opening it and making sure they weren't on the porch having a smoke. "She's not here. Mickey's not here either." He said to him now going in circles around the house, checking the upstairs rooms again to be absolutely positive they weren’t there.

Lip's voice dropped. "What do you mean she's not home? She was there when I left this morning."

"Did Mickey leave last night?" He asked hopelessly. The thought of that made his stomach turn.

"No. He was up all drinking until like four in the morning and sobbing his eyes out at the table. I had to carry him into bed." Those words hit Ian like a brick wall. His hangover seemed to have dispersed almost entirely as anxiety took over him. He made his way back downstairs into the living room again. 

"I..." His voice trailed off as he stepped on something loud which cracked under his shoe. He looked down to investigate and found a large piece of glass split in two. Had Mickey thrown more beer bottles around after he left? As he began walking forward he noticed there was a path of glass shards leading up to the foot of the window. He looked up and saw that the entire window busted as if someone sent a brick through it. Ian normally wouldn’t be as alarmed by this since Frank was here but the fact that Mickey and Mandy were both missing seemed to not sit right.

"Fuck, the whole window is broken!" Ian exclaimed.

"Did somebody break in?!" Lip yelled.

"I... don't know..." He looked down at the ground trying to put the pieces together and make sense of the whole situation. Did Mickey break the window and leave out of anger? If he did, did Mandy go with him? Why would she be gone too?

"Do you think they left together?" Ian asked trying to pull logical solutions from his mind. 

"Mandy knew she had to work today. She hasn't missed a day since she started. Mickey wouldn't leave either, he's a wanted fugitive. Is Debs home? Ask her if she saw them." Ian could sense hopelessness in his voice also.

"No." He said quickly. "No one is here except Frank... Frank. Let me call you back." He hung up the phone and went back upstairs for the third time. He practically jumped up them skipping three steps at a time and barging in Frank’s room.

"Frank!" Ian yelled, kicking him in his side rather hard. "Frank! Wake the fuck up!" Still no response. He gave him one more pounding kick to the ribs. "FRANK!" He screamed.

"What?! Jesus, what?! What is it?!" He rolled over on his side, his eyes still closed.

"Where are Mickey and Mandy? Where did they go?" He ripped the blankets off of him.

He sighed in annoyance. “Who?!”

"Mickey and Mandy! They've been staying here! Don't play dumb with me Frank." He learned in closer trying to intimidate him.

"Oh, Terry's spawn. The girl who always looks mad and the... the other one, the small, feisty one you like. Man held them at gunpoint..." He trailed off as his head fell back on the pillow and he began snoring again.

Ian kicked his side once more not sure if what he heard was real. "WHAT?!"

"Man busted through the window, held them at gunpoint and lured them off into a van, I believe." He pulled the blankets back up over his chest looking too relaxed. This only made Ian more livid.

"AND YOU DIDN'T STOP HIM?!" He screamed instinctively grabbing the neck of his wife beater tank top, shaking him vigorously.

Frank put his hands up in terror. "I tried to stop him but I don't get involved in others domestic matters, as I would wish others to do so for me!"

Ian moaned and threw him down on the back down on the bed. "YOU'RE FUCKING USELESS, YOU KNOW THAT? YOU ALWAYS HAVE BEEN AND YOU ALWAYS WILL BE!" 

He left the room and slammed the door behind him with such a force that it made a few pictures in the hallway slide of the wall and fall to the floor. He had a vision of Frank running up the stairs to escape, looking for a place to hide as soon as he heard the window break hoping it wasn't someone he owed money to. He was so infuriated he could barely think straight and panic began to rush through him as awful images flashed in his head. He knew exactly who had taken them and why they did.

He reached for his phone, calling Lip and explaining what Frank had told him.

"He fucking took them?!" Lip was hysterical on the other side of the line. "I'm leaving work. I'm coming home." _Click._

\---

"Fuck my phone is dead.” Lip said throwing his onto the kitchen counter. “We have to call the fucking cops, man. Give me your phone." He said, reaching his hand out to Ian.

"No! No cops! Please, no! Lip that would be a disaster." He begged him.

Lip scoffed. "I don't know Ian, calling the cops when two people are taking hostage at gunpoint sounds pretty fucking logical, wouldn't you agree?" 

He tried to reason with him sensibly. "Let me keep trying her." He had been calling Mandy repeatedly for the last half hour with no luck of getting through to her. It was now he regretted throwing Mickey's phone out the window a few weeks before this. He decided to try her one more time. Finally, in some stretch of faith, Mandy’s voice was heard on the other side of the line.

She spoke softly. "Ian?"

"Mandy?! Fuck Mandy are you okay? Where are you?" He put the phone on speaker as Lip came rushing over to it.

"It's that guy, J.T. He had a gun. He beat the shit out of Mickey and grabbed me by the hair. He made us go." Her voice was shaking in fear which was often unheard of from Mandy. "He knocked me out. I've been out cold for an hour.”

“Fuck.” Lip said as worry was all over his face. Large tears collected in his eyes.

“Where is he now?” Ian asked urgently. 

“He’s in the other room. He shot up and he's passed out now, totally unconscious. Can you guys hurry and get here? I can't even move and I'm bleeding pretty bad." She sounded weak.

Lip was pacing back and forth, tears of helplessness falling from his eyes. Ian tried to remain calm.

"Where are you?!" Lip shouted.

Her voice formed into a whisper. "Some crack house on Fullham and Broadway. On 19th. It's all run down, you can't miss it. Hurry up.”

"Mandy we're coming. I..." He choked on his words. "I love you."

\---

They arrived at the front of the house in an Uber Ian had called the minute he ended his conversation with Mandy. As they pulled up, the Uber driver, a dark skinned man named Desmond stared at them suspiciously.

“You sure this is the place?” He asked leaning his head out the window glancing up at the house he had brought them to. It was a dark brown house on the corner which looked like it had been forclosed years ago. There was graffiti tags all over the front of it and the windows seemed to be covered and nailed in with plywood. Ian understood why the man was questioning them as it looked like they were most likely going there to buy drugs.

“Yep, this is it. Thanks.” Said Ian in hurry leaping out the front door and waiting for Lip behind him.

“Fuck this is going to be so bad.” He said under his breath.

They approached the house and didn’t waste any time entering. The door was also a large piece of plywood that probably once prevented anyone from coming in but it had been ripped down. There was a large gap on the side where they could fit through. The squeezed in quickly as Ian observed the inside of the home. The place was flooded with garbage mostly consisting of beer cans. It reminded Ian of a much more frightening version of Iggy's. The ground was scattered with used needles and empty baggies. 

“MANDY!” Lip screamed as soon as they got in. There was no response as they both went there separate ways trying to find any sign of them. He darted up the stairs while Ian looked around the living room. Less than five seconds later Lip was screaming for him from the top of the stairs.

"IAN! She’s in here!” 

He launched up the stairs going into a dark lit room on the left of him. Lip was standing over Mandy who was sprawled out on the floor. He eyes were open and she seemed to be moving but she was clenching her stomach and appeared to be in extreme pain.

“Oh my god, why is she bleeding like that?" Lip's hands were over his mouth as he stood in place staring down at her. "Why is she bleeding like that?!" He yelled again, his voice cracking as he began to sob. Ian glanced down at her looking for the blood Lip was talking about. She had a pool of red between her legs that bled through her pants and there was also a small puddle on the floor beside her. She was still in her work clothes. Ian felt tears in his eyes and his heart start to break as he imagined Mandy innocently getting ready for work thinking it was a normal day, only to be taken captive and physically beaten. She had a few gashes on her face where she had obviously been hit. Lip collapsed to his knees and began rubbing her head for comfort.

“Mandy? Mandy, baby. Are you okay? What happened to you? Oh my god.” He was becoming hysterical.

She coughed more before she spoke. “He kicked me in the stomach. I think he broke my ribs. I wanted to tell you sooner but…” She put her hand down to her legs, feeling the blood she was in and looking at it on her hand. “I’m pregnant. I need to go to the hospital.” She started bawling. All three of them were breaking down in tears. Lip leaned his head on her, shaking.

“Take her to the hospital now, Lip. Call an ambulance from her phone and go. NOW!” He shouted. He watched Lip scoop her up and carry her down the stairs.

"Are you sure?" Lip had his head turned, meeting Ian's eyes.

"Yes. She needs to go to the hospital right now. I'll be fine." He gave Lip a nod of certainty. Even as an EMT Ian never experienced treating someone who was miscarrying but he knew that they couldn't waste any time and had to get her medical attention immediately. 

“Mickey.” Mandy pointed to the room across the hallway. “He’s in there. Help him.”

He ran into the room she was pointing at. The floor was littered in garbage just like the down stairs had been and it was even darker than the room they found Mandy in. He saw Mickey lying on his side in the corner. He was shirtless and still had the pants on he was wearing the night before.

"MICKEY!" He yelled, also collapsing to his knees. He was lying in a pool of blood that came from the back of his head. His eyes were black and blue as if he had his face smashed in with a gun. It was worse than the time Terry had beaten him to a bloody pulp. Ian began to panic again as he held him in his arms, checking his pulse. This was something he never imagined he would have to do again. It was slow but responsive.

"Mickey?" He said again, putting his hands on either side of his face. “It’s me.”

He moved his head as he moaned in agony. He could barely talk as his mouth was swelled and there were several open cuts on his face. Once he realized Ian was there his dark eyes lit up with warmth. He flashed a weak smile that appeared to take a vast amount of effort.

“You found me…” His hushed voice was like music to his ears. Ian began crying, putting his arms around him, holding him tightly just as he wanted to last night. 

“I’m sorry for being a dick last night--” He began to say. Ian cut him off.

“Shh! Don’t you dare say that. We have to get you out of here. We can talk later, okay? Come on, we’re going home.” He started to hoist him up over him when he heard someone's presence in the room. He turned around to find standing there was J.T. He looked completely hazed and high out of his mind, his eyes barely open. He had a gun pointed to them but he could hardly even hold it up. Without saying anything or even hesitating, Ian set Mickey down gently, walked over to J.T and smacked the gun out of his hand causing it to fly across the room.

He grabbed him by the collar of his shirt just as he did to Frank earlier that day. He brought him close to his face, spitting as he spoke. “I should fucking kill you.”

Ian lunged a forceful uppercut into the side of his face, knocking him onto the ground. He followed him down grabbing his collar again as he head butted him, smashing his face into his forehead as hard as he possibly could. He was so full of adrenaline that it didn’t seem to cause him any pain. His taste for revenge was remarkable as his vision began to blur, almost as if he was blacking out. He extended his fist again plunging another series of crashing punches into his face. This time he couldn’t stop as the hits kept coming while his rage increased. He thought of how much he and Mickey had been through in the past month. Taking care of him and keeping him safe. Not to mention all the fighting, the pain, the emotion. Now, Mandy and Mickey were ripped from the home, threatened at gun point and were brutally beaten. Mandy potentially losing a child and seeing Mickey laying on the floor battered and helpless was the final straw. Ian had experienced too much struggle and had reached his breaking point. All he wanted was to be content with the love of his life and finally make their happily ever after become a reality, but so many forces were working against them even after all this time. He had reached his limit and it was finally time to release his anger.

He didn’t stop as he continued pummeling huge smashes into his face. He could feel his bones crushing on the other side of his fists which was terrifying but it felt too right to break away. The workouts Ian had been been doing to strengthen his upper arms were only benefitting him now. After all the fist fights with bullies at school, his brother and even Mickey, he had never released this type of power on anyone before. He wasn’t done yet as he got up and walked a few feet across the room retrieving the gun J.T had aimed at them. He raised it over the back of his head smashing it down to his face with such force he could not only feel his facial structure shattering but could also hear it. 

“Ian.” Mickey said from behind him. He didn’t respond as he continued pistol wiping his broken face. For a while J.T had been putting up a fight of resistance. Though he had no chance of escaping he was still struggling to fight Ian off, throwing weak hits that had no effect in preventing him from beating his face in. Now, he had stopped moving completely, his hands hung loosely on the ground like a ragdoll and with each blow his body would visibly jolt in some sort of spasm. 

“Ian, it’s enough.” Mickey said again.

He kept throwing blows pretending he couldn't hear him.

“IAN! You’re going to fucking kill him!” Mickey was coughing in pain now, trying to force words out. “Stop! Let’s get the fuck out of here!”

He listened finally, stopping to look at what he had done. What was once the face of a human being was now a mangled mess of smashed in facial features, broken bones and clots of blood. He felt Mickey behind him trying to rip him away. He sighed, wiping sweat off his face and spitting on J.T's lifeless body.

“Holy shit. We have to go.” Mickey said in disbelief studying the scene before him.

Ian threw the gun back on the ground as he tried to catch his breath. He turned back to Mickey, hoisting him up again as he did before. They made their way down the stairs leaving the mess behind.

He had a feeling J.T wouldn't be coming between them any longer.


	17. Catching Smoke.

  


**Ian's perspective.**

After another long day filled with exhaustingly morbid trauma, Ian finally had his much deserved chance to crawl in bed with Mickey and have him completely to himself. They had made it home safely and managed to accomplish their getaway successfully. When they arrived at home Ian took Mickey upstairs right away to doctor up his wounds. He did the best he could and was able to remove all the blood from his face. The worst of the injuries was the giant gash on the back of his head that had taken a while to stop bleeding, but Ian analyzed it enough to know it wasn’t very serious. His eyes were bruised worse than ever and his lips were still swelled up from being hit countless times. Thankfully nothing was broken but he could tell Mickey was in tremendous amount of pain and compared it to being “hit by a fucking dump truck.” As soon as he was able he informed him about Mandy’s condition, which was harder to do than he expected. Mickey was clearly torn up over the whole situation and felt nothing but guilt. 

Both Lip and Mandy were still at the hospital but Lip had called earlier to check in and let him know everything was going okay so far. He said they still had to preform an ultrasound and run some tests so they wouldn’t be home until later that evening. Mandy was stable and recovering well but Lip sounded distraught on the other side of the phone and Ian knew why. The thought of him losing a baby not only was very emotional in many different ways, but it was also heartbreaking. Ian hoped that it didn’t come to this as their family had endured enough over the last month.

Now that the both of them were home and semi relaxed, Ian made his best attempt to cherish every second of their time together. Mickey laid on his chest as Ian ran his fingers along his face, his neck and his shoulders trying to make him feel at ease and less anxious. It seemed to be working as he began breathing deeply on the verge of falling asleep. He kissed his forehead once but then kissed it a few more times for good measure. He saw a tiny smile appear on his face as he sighed in comfort.

“Am I a burden?” Mickey asked suddenly. Ian was surprised by his voice as he could have sworn he was nearly asleep. He processed what he said, his expression concerned.

“No.” Ian said abruptly now rubbing his forehead sweetly, planting another small kiss on the top of his head. “You never have been and you never will be.”

Mickey exhaled as he reached his hand across his chest, twirling his chest hair in his fingers. “This is all my fucking fault. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

Ian straightened his posture. “Mickey, stop.” He said quietly, almost in a whisper.

“I just want you to love me.” He said, his voice trembling.

He grabbed him tighter pulling him even closer as if that was possible. “I do love you!” Another forehead kiss was placed on him.

“I’m sorry about the other night.” He admitted in defeat.

Ian shook his head denying his words. “No, I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Mickey didn’t acknowledge his apology. “I said some fucked up shit because I was drunk. I didn’t mean any of it.” He sniffled and let out some muffled whimpers as he buried his head further into Ian’s chest. 

Ian sat up straighter flipping him over gently onto his back so he could stare down into his beaten eyes. He placed his hand on his cheek.

“I don’t care about any of that. None of it matters. Seeing you today, laying in the corner all…” He looked around his face studying all of the cuts and scratches that still remained. “Beaten and alone. I couldn’t take it.”

Mickey smiled again. It was a sweet, heartfelt smile, one that Ian didn’t see enough and wished to see more of. He filled their distance and kissed his lips passionately.

“Thank you for saving me.” Mickey said genuinely once they broke apart. “And Mandy. I owe you my fucking life.”

Ian shook his head again. “No. You don’t owe me anything. Just love me, that’s all I can ask.” He kissed him again.

He helped Mickey shift to his side, lying behind him cradling his body tenderly and kissing his neck. He arched his neck closer to his lips in response.

"I've never seen you go in on someone like that before." He said peaking over his shoulder in his direction.

"What do you mean?" Ian asked curiously though he knew exactly what he was implying.

"Homeboy with the smashed in face. You fucked him up. You had this crazy ass look in your eye. It was pretty badass." He said scooting his body up closer to him. "It kind of turned me on." Ian didn’t have to look at his face to know he was grinning.

He raised his eyebrows in astonishment as he found this very impressive. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah.” Mickey assured him rubbing his fingers along the arm that cradled him. “It was hot. You were in like protective mode or something."

Ian smiled. "That's exactly what it was, actually." He leaned into his neck again giving him a few more soft kisses. "I went a little crazy but I’m just over all the bullshit." He sighed. “I’m sick of fighting and I’m sick of everyone trying to break us apart.”

"I know." Mickey agreed. “We’ll make it out of this shit.” He said reassuringly. 

He reached his hand around him placing it behind his head and pulling him even closer to him again. This time Ian responded and kissed the side of his neck all the way to his ear, breathing in it lightly and hearing Mickey moan in pleasure. Ian couldn’t help himself from thinking that a much needed love making session was long overdue as the last time they were intimate was the night before at the ball field. That wasn’t enough to hold him over and he knew it wouldn’t cut it for Mickey either. His sexual drive was unmatched and the only one who could ever keep up with it was him. His lust to be inside of him was overpowering and he craved his body so intensely he knew he wasn’t going another night without it. Mickey typically liked to get right down to business when it came to sex but Ian found an immense amount of joy in teasing him and building up the unbearable anticipation. 

Ian traced his hand along the curve of his hip, gripping it tightly and pushing into him. He bit his ear lightly which made Mickey's neck arch. 

"I wanted to fuck you so bad last night." He whispered. He reached down to get a quick feel of his dick. Amazingly it was already erect even though Ian had barely touched him. He began stroking it, watching Mickey's reaction closely with excitement. He closed his eyes contently as small moans escaped his lips.

"You don’t want to fuck me right now?" Mickey asked him, his eyes still closed while a gratifying smile grew on his face. Ian sat up, shifting his body and changing Mickey’s position this time for him to be onto his back so he could hover over him and still be in control. He stayed close to his ear so he could continue to whisper in it. He could tell Mickey enjoyed this and he didn’t want to stop.

"You want me to fuck you?" Ian said breathlessly. He sat up sliding his legs on either side of him, straddling him tightly. Mickey didn't respond for a moment.

"Hmm?" He hummed in question. He ran his hands down his neck and along his back, grazing his fingertips over his skin so faintly he heard him let out a small giggle. He leaned down once again wanting nothing more than to say dirty things to him.

"You want me to fuck you? Huh?" He asked again watching Mickey's reaction while his head laid on the side of the pillow. His eyes were still shut and a beaming smile still appeared on his face and he giggled again.

“Only if you fuck me good." He said satirically. Ian knew know he was trying to get a playful rise out of him.

He gasped dramatically. "I always fuck you good. Do I not?" He began kissing his back gently, working his way down his spine and watching the goosebumps come alive in waves on his beautifully soft skin.

"Not even." He responded.

He smiled slyly. Ian liked this game and was glad Mickey was playing along. "What was that?" He still remained in his ear but mockingly humped his ass now watching as he opened his mouth letting out an exasperated sigh.

"You fuck me good." He said quietly, finally admitting it. “You fuck me so good.” The smile wouldn’t leave his face.

Ian was now just as hard as Mickey had been. He dragged his cock down his back and over his ass wanting to show off how big it had grown for him. 

"Fuck." He groaned. Ian loved when he swore yearningly.

“You want me to put my cock in you?” Ian asked this time more dominantly as he pulled Mickey’s hips up so he was balanced with his legs under him. “Huh?”

He watched as his arms stretched over his head and he clenched the sheets into his fists. He arched his ass higher as if to give Ian the obvious hint.

He was getting incredible entertainment from this. “You’re going to ignore me?” He ran his hands over Mickey’s back down to his hips again, gripping them and digging his fingers into his skin roughly. 

“You going to shut your mouth and fuck me?” Mickey said suddenly.

Ian leaned his head back in amusing laughter. “Oh!” He continued gripping his hips so tightly his fingers were turning white. “You better be nice.”

“Or what?” Mickey laughed in enjoyment. “Or you’ll put your dick in me?”

Ian pushed his hard cock between Mickey as he spread his ass apart, teasing him playfully while he resisted going inside of him.

“You going to beg for it?” Ian said slowly pushing the tip further into him.

Mickey reached behind him, his face nearly smashed into the bed now as he pulled himself apart for him. Ian was hoping his face wasn’t hurting but he assumed he would say something if it did.

“Fuck me.” Mickey said with conviction. “Please. Please, baby. I want it so bad.”

Ian stood there fixed in place for a moment, stunned as his whole universe turned upside down. Not only from hearing Mickey beg so desperately for him but it was also the first time he had ever called him “baby” and it was enough to make him ditch the games entirely. His whole desire to tease Mickey and make him beg had disappeared completely as Ian was now the one who couldn’t resist any longer. He shoved his rock hard cock into the entrance of him. 

“Oh fuck yeah.” Mickey said in relief. Ian knew he had been craving this for too long and decided he had suffered enough. He began penetrating him slowly but this was apparently too weak as Mickey backed up closer to him forcing him to slide further down the base of his dick. He almost lost his concentration as every nerve in his body linked together in unison.

“Fuck if you do that again I’ll fucking come.” Ian said, breathing heavily and again, grabbing his hips for some sort of balance. 

He could barely hear Mickey over his panting but his voice was clear. “Oh, yeah? Already? What if I want you to come? You want to come inside my ass?” He asked in such a sexy tone that Ian was on the verge of releasing.

“No!” Ian pleaded. “No, not yet.” He reached for the back of his neck and smashed him into the mattress again hoping it didn’t hurt him. He realized that the roles had totally reversed and Mickey was now the one who had him right where he wanted him. 

Mickey seemed to have disregarded him as he totally took over, thrusting lively on his shaft. Ian watched as he squeezed the sheets in his fist even tighter, this time for something to hold onto and keep him in place. He grunted loudly as he kept humping Ian’s pulsing penis. He couldn’t help but let Mickey have his way and observed him intently as he looked almost animalistic. This was something Ian wasn’t used to as he usually did a majority of the fucking but it was only making him more turned on. Though it felt amazing, he couldn’t stop himself from stealing his thunder back. He stopped Mickey mid thrust.

“Let me have it.” He said as he positioned himself to take back over. Mickey gave up without a fight. This time he put his hands on him shoulders preparing to fuck him into oblivion. He began shoving his cock into his ass showing absolutely no mercy, the rhythmic frequency of his humping was sending him into a deep hypnotic haze of euphoria. The way they had fed off each other during psychical intimacy was quite remarkable and it always made for the most rewarding results.

“You like that?” Ian asked, making aggression true in his tone. He continued smashing his dick into his opening, completely wrecking him. He saw that Mickey was in a different world as he was still grunting intensely. “You fucking like that? Huh?” He demanded giving his ass a decently hard slap.

He appreciated the fact that Mickey’s eyes were now rolling into the back of his head, his tongue tracing his upper lip in obvious inner ecstasy. “I fucking love it. I fucking love when you fuck me.”

This was the response Ian had been thirsting for. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer if Mickey kept doing visible tricks with his tongue.

“God I love your fucking cock!” Mickey shouted through gritted teeth as he still plowed into him repeatedly. He could feel himself pulsing fiercely as he was preparing to unload inside of him. He could feel Mickey matched his pace as he tightened around him, getting ready to reach a long awaited climax.

“Yeah? You gonna fucking come?” Ian said removing one hand from his shoulder to wipe beads of sweat from his forehead.

“Yeah, yeah keep going. Shit!” Mickey shouted as he slammed his fist into the bed. Ian could feel him contract so tightly around him that it sent him straight to his orgasm. 

Ian was panting, desperate for air. “I’m fucking coming!” He gripped Mickey’s shoulders pulling him backwards with astonishing force so he could absorb every inch of his cock as they both came together, completely in unison.

“Oh, fuck!” Ian was throbbing with release as he finally caught his breath.

Mickey kept his grip around him. “God damn!” He watched as his eyes shut tightly while he slammed his fist on the mattress again, his moan echoing the walls. He had what Ian thought was a most beautiful expression on his face and he was proud of himself for giving it to him.

Ian pulled out slowly from him, both of them releasing a small wince, followed by a sigh of exhaustion. He collapsed on the bed next to Mickey, looking over at him as he was also breathing heavily. They both smiled at each other in satisfaction.

Mickey shook his head reaching for a pack of cigarettes on the side of the bed. “Man, I will never get tired of that.” He pursed his lips lighting the smoke, taking a long drag.

“Nope.” Ian agreed accepting the cigarette he was now passing to him.

“Do you think anyone’s home?” Mickey asked.

Ian chuckled. “If they are, they heard us fucking like animals.”

Mickey erupted in booming laughter.

\---

"IAN!"

He jumped out of bed instantly. He was in a dead sleep but with everything that had been happening lately the sound of someone shouting his name was enough to make him scramble and flail around the bed in a panic, almost falling off the edge. Before he could even process who was calling for him he turned towards Mickey's spot on the bed. To his relief he was still laying there, his head on the pillow, staring back up at him as if he truly lost it.

"Jesus, calm down turbo." Mickey said followed by a lengthy yawn.

"Who is that?! Who's calling me?!" He said frantically grabbing his clothes from the floor.

"Would you chill the fuck out?!"

He ignored him. He had barely slipped his pants over his rear when he bolted down the hallway and flew down the stairs. He looked around the living room to find Mandy sprawled out on the couch looking exhausted while Lip sat up on the far right side watching the TV intently at a very high volume.

"What? What is it? Mandy, what happened?" Ian was in desperation hoping nothing tragic had gone down. He wasn't sure how much more he could take. He was curious to know how their hospital visit went and if everything turned out alright. He could hear Mickey's thudding footsteps following behind him.

She looked up at him, her eyes bright and hopeful. To his relief she didn't look nearly as bad as Mickey. Her face seemed to have a few minor cuts but no bruising or swelling.  
  
"I'm fine. The baby's fine." She had her hand over her stomach. "The doc ordered to be on bed rest for a while after all of the bleeding but this one's a little fighter. I have a cracked rib but that should heal over time."

Ian broke out in a joyous smile as his worries instantly diminished. Before he could respond Mickey stepped in front of him, standing over the couch above her. Ian realized it was the first time they had seen each other since they were both ripped from their home, held captive and physically beaten. He felt his heart sink as he discovered this probably wasn't the first time they were abused together by the same person in the same day, growing up with a father like Terry. He watched their eyes meet as Mickey reached his hand out and placed it on her stomach. He looked back from her eyes to her stomach a few times.

"My niece or nephew's in there?" Mickey's eyes were looking down at her, his face full of astonishment. If Ian didn't know any better he could have sworn Mickey was tearing up. He could see it was a meaningful moment between them as they exchanged sweet expressions and he admired it.

Mandy's eyes were twinkling. "Yeah, a little Gallagher Milkovich baby."

He laughed, rolling his eyes. "Like the world needs one of those."

Ian turned to Lip and smiled. "I can't believe you're going to be a dad--"

Lip rudely cut them off. "SHH!” He had the remote in his hand and began violently pressing the volume button increasing it even louder. “Listen to this." 

"…Police are looking for two suspects wanted for voluntary manslaughter tonight as a Jason Thomas Henderson was brutally beaten to death early this afternoon when he was in the comfort of a friend’s home. Witnesses say two men broke into the home and attacked Henderson, maliciously beating him until he was unidentifiable. He died just an hour after the attack from complications of internal bleeding from severe brain injuries and head trauma. Forensic investigators have identified two suspects involved in the crime by DNA evidence. Ian Clayton Gallagher and Mikhalio Aleksander Milkovich. Gallagher has reportedly led several preaching services at local churches around the Southside of Chicago portraying his role as quote 'Gay Jesus' and his preaches have went viral over social media. He was formally an advocate for homeless youth is also reported to have a history of mental illness."

It was at this point Ian ripped the remote from Lip's hands. The news lady continued. 

"Milkovich broke out of Cook county prison nearly a year and a half ago and police are still searching for him. He has a juvenile criminal record and his father, Terrance Milkovich has also been arrested on numerous occasions for various crimes. It has been reported that Gallagher visited Milkovich in prison during his time served and they are assumed to be romantically involved. If you have any leads on these suspects please call 911 to report your findings. Next on ABC7..."

Ian turned off the TV.

No one made a sound or even flinched.

"You... you killed the guy." Lip said after a painfully long silence, everyone still staring at the blank TV screen.

Ian wasn't exactly sure what to feel as his whole body became numb and a deep, throbbing wave pounded in the pit of his guts. His vision was tunneling and he became very hot as his body temperature began skyrocketing. He walked over to the stairs and sat on the first step, looking at the ground, replaying the images of his what he had done and how bad he had beaten him. At the time he didn't feel remorseful because he was protecting his family, but now he felt sick. Killing someone was never his intention.

"What happened after we left?" Mandy asked, sitting upright and leaning over the side of the couch waiting for an answer but he wasn't able to give her one.

Mickey interjected. "He pounded his face. He went crazy on the prick and he had every reason to."

"To the point where you killed him?" Lip asked. Ian could feel his eyes on him, waiting for a response.

He still looked down at the floor as Mickey was walking over to where he was sitting, placing his hands on his back and rubbing him affectionately.

"I know you're shocked right now. Are you alright?" He asked.

He didn't respond. He still sat there, unable to speak.

"In the comfort of his friend's home... that's a bunch of bullshit. The fucker was a straight junkie." Mickey was still rubbing his back as he went on a tangent. "And there were no fucking witnesses! They just twisted the story because I'm wanted by the cops. I'm the target. We have to get out of here. This is the first place the cops are going to come looking and you've already got a warrant. You'll go straight to jail."

"So will you." Ian said to himself but still didn't move.

He shook his head. "This isn't about me. We have to go, come on. Let's go get your shit."

Lip stood up from his spot on the couch. "Where the fuck are you going to go?"

Ian shrugged. "I have no idea."

“You don't have to automatically go into hiding. You can explain the situation--”

Ian scoffed. “Oh yeah. Just tell them that I was protecting my criminal boyfriend and his sister from being held hostage at gunpoint so I killed the guy out of self-defense. I’m sure they’ll let me go on my way.”

"Uh, yeah. I don’t see why that wouldn’t work.” He said honestly.

Ian took a deep breath, putting his hands on his forehead. “BECAUSE I KILLED SOMEONE!” He screamed.

He knew Mickey was right. It was only a matter of time before the police came looking for them, and if they found them there, they would both be in prison.

They had to leave.


	18. Sunset.

  
**Ian's perspective.**

Later that evening, both Ian and Mickey had packed what they could in bags and made there way to Iggy’s house. It was Mickey’s suggestion to go there and probably the most logical idea. It was only a matter of time before the police started checking records and reaching out to their family’s locations. Ian had said his temporary goodbyes to Lip and Mandy. Lip begged him not to leave, that this wasn’t his only option and to just go to the authorities and explain what really happened, but Ian knew this wasn’t as easy as he made it out to be. He ended up getting angry and they didn’t leave on a good note.

His mind had been racing for hours now as he thought about what was to come next. Where would they go? Where would they live? They couldn’t stay in the city. The only reason Mickey had gotten away with it for so long is because the hype of his escape had died down over time. Ian’s was brand new and hot off the press. He was wanted for manslaughter and for taking someone’s life. Mickey was complaining their whole journey to Iggy’s saying J.T was nothing but an addict and the news failed to mention that. He knew that the true story behind the scenes was completely twisted by the media. Ian was made out to be not only a criminal but a murderer who innocently and brutally killed someone. The only thought that was keeping him somewhat sane was that he knew the real story. That the person he beat to bloody pulp was the same person who had attempted to hurt his family on more than one occasion. What if he hadn’t reached Mandy and Mickey in time? They could have ended up dead and that wasn’t something he could risk.

In a different world, maybe Ian could present his story and explain to the law that this incident was self-defense and nothing more than an attempt to protect his family, that the murder was not premeditated or had any ulterior motives. Maybe then he would have a chance at getting a lesser prison sentence. Unfortunately, the fact that Mickey’s DNA had been discovered on the scene of the crime changed the whole dynamic of the situation and even altered the truth. He was a wanted convict so any evidence of him being at a crime scene would point to his faults.

After a couple of hours of constant phone calls Ian decided to finally turn off his phone. Fiona, Debbie and even Vee had all called numerous times. He didn’t really feel like explaining himself and he figured if they really needed more information Lip would provide it to them. He could hear Fiona’s frantic, nagging voice in his head. When she said they both needed a plan for the future he didn’t think this is what she intended. The more these thoughts clouded his head the more he realized that maybe Mickey was right. What was he leaving behind? He didn’t have friends, a job, a stable life, and his family had their own issues. His mom was gone, his dad was basically dead to him also, and his brothers and sisters were all creating their own lives with their own goals and ambitions. Though he loved watching them succeed, he knew he couldn’t spend the rest of his life in the same house doing the same thing until he one day kicked the bucket. He was young and he had been told many times that the world was his oyster, but now that he had a warrant for murder his potential had suddenly became very limited. It had only been a few hours since he was wanted for a malicious crime but he already began to sympathize with Mickey. This is how he felt, on the run and wanted, with no real hope or chance of any.

Mickey didn’t understand why Ian wanted to stay in Chicago and now, at this point, Ian didn’t understand why he wanted to either. Over a 24 hour span he questioned everything differently and focused only on their next move. After enough pondering, he shifted his eyes over at Mickey who was on the edge of the bed smoking a cigarette looking highly pensive. Since they arrived at Iggy’s Mickey hadn’t said much of anything to him. In all honesty Ian preferred it that way as there wasn’t much lighthearted conversation to be exchanged anyway.

He brainstormed many scenarios over the last couple of hours but he knew nothing would carry out long enough. They couldn’t hide out forever hoping that they would never be found. He couldn’t prevent himself from feeling unbearably selfish as he thought back to the night of their argument. He wanted Mickey to stay with him in hiding for however long not even thinking of him or what he wanted. Ian had showed much of his selfish side over the years and was working his hardest trying to prove Mickey wrong, that he could be the man he needed, so the last thing he wanted to do was revert back to those ways. It was a character flaw he had developed that he wanted so badly to eliminate.

Ian reached into his pocket pulling out a crumpled bag of weed and a pack of rolling papers he had found hidden away in the depths of his dresser when he was packing. He had no clue how long they had been there or where they even came from but a joint was a necessity at this point in time. He pulled a thin white Zig-Zag paper out of the tiny pack then pinched some shake from the plastic baggy, spreading it out on the paper. He repeated this a few more times until he had a suitable amount to roll. He began closing it and rolling slowly as the paper crinkled obnoxiously. He saw Mickey's head turning in the corner of his eye. He didn't look up but finished twisting the paper until it transformed into a passable joint, popping it between his lips and getting ready to spark. He figured Mickey was longing for a hit as he began inching closer to him. He took a huge inhale and passed it along his way, holding in the smoke and letting it sit in his lungs before releasing a giant foggy cloud that spread and submerged slowly into the room. The smell of the herb filled his nostrils as it brought back many nostalgic flashbacks of him and Lip in the old van, taking hits and laughing at Frank's drunken self, face down and half dead in the backyard grass. For some reason this gave him the sudden urge to cry but he held it back. There would be plenty of time for tears and sorrows later.

He plopped backwards on the bed letting his dead weight hit the mattress as he bounced back up dramatically. The pot was hitting him now as he took a deep relieving exhale and closed his eyes attempting to relax himself while every wheel in his mind turned. The wheels began to slowdown as he felt the THC rush through his brain but they were still turning steadily.

He suddenly grew irritated with their silence thinking he should say something to break the ice. He assumed Mickey’s mind was racing also as he usually remained fairly quiet when it did. Now that there wasn’t so much to say and they had the opportunity to sit together in silence even during the given circumstances, he was reminded of how absolutely beautiful it was to sit in this comfortable quiet with him. It was times like these that he occasionally took for granted without even realizing it. He had a mutual understanding with Mickey that was not like anyone he had met in his life, or anyone who was already in his life. No words could be exchanged, no dialogue could be spoken but he was in fact speaking to him, very loudly and fluidly in waves of his energy. It was clear that this was a dire situation and they needed to come to a conclusion soon as time was ticking, but, for that particular moment in time, Ian was very content not saying a single word and sharing a joint with him.

After a few more moments of exchanged vibes and joint passing, he finally managed to speak but his tone was timid and hesitant. “Mexico doesn’t sound all that bad now.”

Mickey huffed loudly and also plopped on the bed next to him. “I had a feeling that was coming.”

He handed the joint back to him and he accepted it, pinching the tip and inhaling one last puff before putting it out in the ashtray on the night stand. He sat up suddenly, glancing out the window to absorb the outside world. The sun was beginning to set behind the city and the bright, illuminating rays came beaming into the bedroom. He watched the dust particles inside the ray move unpredictable excitement. They twirled and danced together harmoniously.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He said grimly.

His gaze redirected from the dancing particles to Mickey’s eyes. The dark, ice blue spheres were already fixed on him. Before he could respond Ian continued, staring back behind him over his shoulder as he was still sprawled out on the bed. He could feel it vibrating as Mickey tapped his leg against the bed frame.

He spoke carefully. “I know you’re thinking I just want to leave now because I have to.”

He shrugged. “I don’t fucking give a shit anymore.” He broke his stare with Ian’s to rub his eyes. He was looking irritated and also exhausted.

He laid his hand on his thigh. “I don’t believe that. I think you do give a shit, actually.” He began running his hand up and down his thigh soothingly trying to send the message he should feel comfortable. “I would have gone with you even if this shit didn’t happen. I would have went—”

He sat up on the bed so fast it caused a draft of motion. “What if I went without you?” He asked. His expression was challenging.

Ian thought about this for a moment. What if he did leave without him? He couldn’t picture him embarking on that voyage alone and the fact that he even questioned it was unsettling.

“Mickey, I never said I wasn’t going to go with you.” He made sure his tone was as genuine as possible while not taking his eyes off of him.

“I get that but now you want to go because you have no fucking choice.” His words were sharp.

Ian threw his hands up in the air defeatedly. “You’re going to think that no matter what I say. I wanted us to stay here, in Chicago, at my house, where I could take care of you. Then you said you didn’t want to stay there forever which I understood, but I never said I wasn’t going to go with you. The fact that you’re saying I would go without you is a lie—”

“I never said you weren’t going to go either! I asked you what would happen if I left.” Mickey looked very animated as Ian could see his frustration building.

 _Is this the shit couples fight about? Who said what and how they said it?_ He thought to himself.

“Fuck I need a beer.” He heard Mickey mutter under his breath.

A beer sounded incredibly tempting after a day like he had but he remembered his privilege of casually walking to the store to get a six pack of Old Styles was now nonexistent. It was these small inconveniences he was coming to terms with that made him realize just how Mickey had felt after all this time. He knew that time was ticking and the more they waited, hiding in the depths of Iggy’s home, the more someone was bound to come looking for them.

“We need a plan.” Ian said.

“Yeah, no shit.” He watched Mickey get up from the bed and shuffle over to the window, looking down at the street below him. “We need money.” He said scratching the back his head. Ian pulled out his wallet from his pocket making sure his bank card was still in it.

“No we don’t. I still have some money saved from my old job and from, you know, Gay Jesus church donations.” His tone dropped on the end of last sentence shamefully.

“You got cash? Because if not you better get your ass to the bank and get some before this news shit spread and people recognize you.” Mickey said, his eyebrows raised and forehead crinkled.

“I’m not going to worry about that now.” Ian interjected. “Once we’re out of state we can get cash. It probably won’t break national news. We just need to get out of Chicago. I’ve got money for hotels, food, gas...” His mind began racing again.

He studied Mickey as his raised eyebrows stayed in place but his frown transformed into a sly grin.

“Woah there, Gallagher. Look at you, devising a plan.” He smirked.

Ian didn’t respond to his commentary. “We just need a car… We might have to buy one.” 

Mickey walked back from the window, his arms crossed. “Buy a fucking car? How much money you got?” He nodded at his wallet.

Ian stared up at him. “Well it’s not like I can buy a Ferrari but I can afford a beater maybe.”

“How much money do you have, Ian?” He asked sternly.

“I don’t know. I haven’t checked my account in awhile. Maybe just over eight grand, give or take.” He shrugged.

“Eight grand?!” He shouted in surprise, then shook his head. “Fuck that. Don't waste your money on a car." He did some sort of shooing motion with his hand as if what he suggested was nonsense. "We'll just steal one."

"Steal one?" Ian questioned.

Mickey's eyes widened, mocking his surprise. "Uh, yeah. Nothing we haven't done before. What's another charge to our murder record?" He returned to Ian’s side on the bed.

He pondered this and realized he was right. Being wanted for auto theft was the least of their worries.

"You serious about this?" Mickey asked him, interrupting his thoughts.

He glanced at him. "What?"

"Going to Mexico. Leaving all this shit." He extended his arms and spread them out towards the window.

Ian placed his hand back on his thigh and squeezed it to express comfort. He decided to move his hands up his chest, ran them over his neck until they were at his cheeks. He held his head staring into his dark blues once again.

"I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” He smiled. It was true and this time he didn’t have a doubt. 

"You got to say goodbye to your fucking family man. You'll regret it if you don't." He said seriously.

Ian's thoughts went back to him and Lip arguing. He thought of all of his siblings and his heart broke mostly for Liam who was still very young.

He nodded. “I will but first, we need a car. Once the sun sets we’ll go get one.”

Mickey grinned. “Yes sir.”

Ian smiled back realizing that soon, him and Mickey would finally be at peace together. Though this wasn’t the way he envisioned it, they were only a few steps away from success and setting off on this journey together.


	19. One Last Time.

  
**Mickey's perspective.**

“Just let me do it! I did it last time!”

Mickey could hear Ian’s sharp whisper ring in his ears but he didn’t answer him. He was trying his hardest to concentrate in the pitch black darkness. Hot wiring a car with absolutely no light to guide the way was nearly impossible. He had skills when it came to stealing cars but he was slightly out of practice and working in the dark didn't make it any easier. Ian was standing over him outside the car shaking his leg annoyingly. He was trying to be patient and realize that Ian was under a tremendous amount of stress but this wasn’t Mickey’s first rodeo and he was used to this kind of pressure. 

They waited until later in the night to go out and prowl the streets since it was less easier to be recognized. After much disagreeing and arguing back and forth, he forced Ian to wear a navy blue baseball cap that belonged to Iggy. If one thing was going to give them away it was his fiery red hair. Even that could be seen in the dead of night. As soon as they were well camouflaged and prepared enough they set out into the world and began their search for a decent car. Mickey was more than willing to bust the window to get of any car available but Ian made him handle check every single one in sight before they had to face that option. After Mickey expressed his impatience he finally found one that was unlocked and Ian was quite pleased. A run-down silver Toyota Corolla. An older model but a reliable car none the less. He couldn’t believe someone on this side of town would be stupid enough to leave their car open overnight. 

He sat in the driver’s seat fiddling with the wires for the past five minutes. He had already made Ian load the bags into the trunk as he tried to get it started. Mickey continued ignoring Ian as he asked him if he needed help every thirty seconds or so. With no flashlight or even streetlight glare to help him, the task at hand reached a much higher level of difficulty. In broad daylight this was something Mickey could pull off with no struggle what so ever. 

He could see Ian walking up and down the sidewalk in the corner of his eye. He stopped what he was doing to look up at him as he approached the window before turning to make another high strung walk down the street. “Are you fucking pacing?” He hissed.

“Yes! I am!” If they didn’t have to be so quiet Mickey assumed he would be raising his voice. "Just let me do it! Move!" He began to enter the car attempting to shove him out of the way but he stayed put. Ian groaned like a little boy not getting his way. After a few moments of more unlit wire handling, Mickey finally saw tiny sparks emerge from the wires as they connected.

“Yes! Come on baby! Come on…” He whispered to himself as he became hopeful. 

A few more sparks and the engine turned over with a confident rumble. It was the most glorious thing he had heard all night. “Yes! That's fucking right, I told you..”

Before he could turn his head Ian was already on the driver’s side, strapping his seat belt. He glanced over at him. From what he could see of his forehead under the baseball cap it was glistening with beads of water. 

Mickey reached his hand out, touching his forehead as if to feel it was real. “Are you sweating?” He asked, slightly concerned.

Ian nodded assertively. “Yeah. It happens when I’m nervous. I checked the tail lights and they both work fine. Let’s check the headlights.” He reached over across him turning on the headlight switch, flashing them off and on repeatedly.

“Good. Both work. Did you check the dash? Any lights on? Check engine? We should check the oil, too. Just to be sure. Put on your seatbelt.” He pointed past him, his eyes wide and earnest.

Mickey put his hands up in some sort of surrender. He could see how overwhelmed he was becoming. “Ian, calm the fuck down, okay? Breath.” 

“Do you want me to drive?” He asked beginning to tap his knee nervously again like he was outside of the car.

“No!” He shouted, backing out of the parallel parked space they were in and driving down the narrow street. “You need to chill the fuck out!” He started yelling but realized he needed to take his voice down a few octaves. He had to keep reminding himself that Ian hadn’t been through this level of stress before and it was best to remain calm for his sake. He lowered his tone and put his hand on his thigh, just as he always did for him. 

“It’s okay. Everything is okay right now. We’re okay.” He stared out the window but glanced back at Ian a few times to read his expression. He had his head turned towards him looking directly in his eyes. His attempt at comforting him seemed to be working as he nodded slowly, placing his hand over his and rubbing it with his thumb.

What Mickey thought was a peaceful moment was interrupted by Ian’s shouting.

"FUCK!"

“Jesus, what?!” He grabbed the steering wheel in reflex.

He watched him throw his hands in the air. “I don’t have a fucking passport! I can’t go!” He put his hands in his head. “God this is all just so fucked!”

Once again Mickey placed his hand on his thigh. “Ian, relax. I know a guy who does all that. I’ve got all that shit covered.” He glanced over at him.

He looked less stressed. “You do?”

He nodded. “Mhm. Same guy did mine for me back when I needed it.” He gave his thigh a playful squeeze. “Stop fucking doubting me. You act like I’ve never been on the run before. You need to have a little faith in your man.” He winked at him quickly before focusing on the road trying to lighten the mood in any way he could. It seemed to be working since he flashed him a small smile. 

Mickey knew that together they could accomplish this, that they could really pull this off but convincing Ian of that would be the hard part. He was nervous and his anxiety was getting the best of him but Mickey knew it was his job to keep him leveled and make him feel content. He drove a little ways through the city, making sure to abide by every traffic law possible so Ian would feel comfortable. He watched him finally turn on his phone and wait for it to start-up, staring at the screen anxiously. All of the sudden it erupted in a series of chimes that went off repeatedly for a few seconds.

“Shit, you need to call your sister. She’s going to lose it.” Mickey snapped his fingers at the phone. “Do it, Ian.” He ordered.

He sighed. “I know. I’ll text her and tell her to meet us at the house.”

Mickey didn’t say anything. He wasn’t look forward to watching Ian say goodbye to his family members. That would be just as painful for him as it would be for Ian and he wasn’t very prepared for it, but he knew it had to happen, and happen fast. All of these thoughts in his head were starting to make him stressed now.

The urge for a cigarette waved over him. “Can you grab me a smoke?” He asked, holding his hand out.

He shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t have any.”

Mickey’s jaw dropped. “What? Oh fuck no, we really got to speed this process up.”

After a few more minutes of driving, they finally arrived at their destination. Mickey parked on the opposite side of the street in the only spot available, unhooking the wires to temporarily turn off the engine. He looked over and watched as Ian stared at the house, his eyes heavy with sorrow.

“Are you ready?” Mickey asked hesitantly.

Ian nodded, exhaling. “No but what choice do I have?” He looked in the rearview mirror adjusting his baseball cap.

“We have to make it quick. Come on.” He opened the door, stepping out and walking across the street and towards the steps. Ian walked in front of him turning the door knob. Right before he opened it he gave him one more painful glance, then stepped in. They entered the living room and from what Mickey would see, Frank was passed out on the couch as usual. They made their way into the kitchen where they found all of the Gallaghers except for Carl, plus Mandy, Kevin and Vee. Before either of them could say anything Fiona came running towards them nearly tackling Ian into an embrace. She held him for a long time before breaking their hug, grabbing his shoulders and staring into his face.

“What the fuck, Ian? Are you okay?” She asked somberly.

He saw him give her a weak smile. “I’m fine. I just... I came here to say goodbye to everyone.” His tone was gloomy.

Fiona’s expression changed. “Goodbye? Where are you going?"

Ian looked back to him again for some sort of reassurance. He gave him a nod, encouraging him to continue his words. Mickey could see he was beginning to cry as his eyes filled with tears which instantly began falling down his face.

“Fiona, I murdered someone and I had an escaped convict with me. I’ll be lucky if I don’t get sentenced for life.” He wiped away some tears. Mickey looked away for a moment, glancing at Lip who looked was staring right in his eyes. The guilt was setting in again.

Fiona kept her hands on his shoulders following his eyes as tears began to fill hers, also. “Ian, we can sort this out. Lip told me what happened. We can do this the legal way.

Ian began shaking his head before she finished speaking. "No. We already have everything packed. I'm going." Mickey could hear the devastation in his voice but he made his point firm.

”Where are you going then?” She asked. It was as if she didn’t want to hear the answer, but kept her eyes fixed on him.

Ian sniffled. “We’re going to Mexico. Mickey and I. We’re leaving tonight. If we don’t leave soon we’re going to be screwed. I've made my choice and I'm not changing it.” He moved away from Fiona’s lock on his shoulders before she could respond, walking over to Kev and Vee,. Kev grabbed his hand, pulling him in. 

“Mexico is crazy as shit. Be careful, man. And wear sunscreen. A shit ton. Roll in it before you step foot into the sunlight.” Mickey watched Ian laugh but he didn't think he was joking.

Before he could leave Kev's bear hug, Vee wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. He turned around and closed their gap, giving her a warming hug before breaking apart and looking down at her. “I love you my sweet little ginger snap.” Her eyes were also wet. Ian made his way to Debbie who was sitting at the end of the table. The tears were falling from her face uncontrollably as she held Franny close to her.

“I’m going to miss you so much. Are you going to call? Are you going to forget about your family?” Her tone was enough to send Mickey into a crying fit himself but he tried his best to keep it together. Ian looked at her as his tears were now falling down his cheeks, rolling under his chin.

He sniffled again, this time wiping his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie. “No! I could never forget about my family. I’ll call every day—”

“Promise?!” She shouted.

“I promise Debs.” He kissed the top of her head, then leaned down to Franny, also kissing her head. “I love you my favorite niece.” She cooed and smiled at her uncle, then started fussing. Mickey realized it was late and though he didn’t know much about babies he figured it was far past her bed time.

Mandy was next in line. He placed his hand on her stomach and gave it a comforting rub, then pulled her into a strong hug. She was also crying. At this point, everyone was crying. He could tell she was hugging him tightly. “I love you.” That was all she said and Ian said something in her ear but it was muffled and hard to hear.

Finally, he faced Lip who stood beside Mandy, his blue eyes looking dark and saddened. Mickey knew this would be the hardest family member for him to say goodbye to. Though him and Lip never really had any sort of relationship, he respected him and knew he had always been extremely close with his brother.

“I love you, man.” He said, pulling him into an embracing hug almost roughly. They kept hugging for a significant amount of time. When they broke apart, Lip grabbed his face, putting their foreheads together and staring into his eyes. “I still don’t think you should go.”

Ian nodded. “I know, but I have to.” He said sternly.

“You're a big boy now. I get it." He gave him one more quick, tight hug. "I love you.” He repeated.

“I love you, too.” He said quietly.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, handing them over to him. To Mickey’s relief and probably Ian’s too, he was smiling warmly. “You need these more than I do.” Both brothers laughed joyously, but their tears were still visible as well as the heartbreak on their faces.

He turned around to face Liam who was sitting at the kitchen table in his pajamas, looking sleepy. This is when Mickey almost had to turn away again as Ian wasn’t able to hold back his tears. His lips began trembling as he let out a shaky voice. “Hey, little man. Give me a hug.” Liam practically jumped in his arms and Ian smiled lovingly.

“Where are you going?” He asked innocently.

Ian wiped a few tears from his cheeks. “I’m going away for a little while. But I’m going to call you every day, okay? Maybe you can come visit me sometime soon. How’s that sound?” 

Liam smiled. “That sounds good.”

“Yeah?” Ian was grinning, then tussled his hair playfully and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

Normally, Mickey would probably feel awkward and extremely out of place watching this all happen, but he knew that Ian needed him during this painful moment more than ever. It wasn’t easy for him and it would get even harder over time. He watched as he made one last stop to Fiona where he had started. He looked at her and was crying harder than ever. 

“Thank you for everything. I love you. Tell Carl I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye, and I love him.” He said, his voice breaking.

Fiona smiled but her tears were still coming. “I will. I love you. Please be safe, Ian. And call as soon as you can!”

“I will.” He assured her. As Ian walked towards Mickey, he looked up and noticed everyone was staring at him. He gave an uncomfortable smile as if to say he was sorry for all the trouble. He was startled as Mandy came prancing towards him, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

"I never got to say goodbye last time.” She said. This nearly sent Mickey over the edge as he hugged her back and nestled his head into her neck. He could smell her hair which was the same sent it had always been. It sent him through a flash of nostalgia. 

“I love you.” He said seriously.

She didn’t say anything but continued hugging him, rubbing his back which was very comforting. When he finally broke away he was shocked to see Lip standing there next to her, his arms spread open. Before he could react he was already pulling him into a hug.

“Take care of my brother.” He said. It was more of an order than a statement.

Mickey responded without skipping a beat. "Until the day I fucking die.” He made his voice loud and clear, staring at everyone around the room assuring them that his commitment was true.

“What about his meds?” Lip asked.

Mickey felt like he was answering to Ian’s father, one that actually cared about his wellbeing. “Yeah I got all that covered. I know all sorts of hooks down there. I got this.” He looked in his eyes with certainty though Lip still looked unsure. 

“Trust me,” He said making sure he was looking at him. “You of all fucking people should know I won’t be letting him go one second without his scripts. Not a fucking second.” This reminder seemed to have made Lip's expression more soft.

Ian made his rounds again giving everyone a final hug. They followed both him and Mickey into the living room.

“You want to say farewell to your loving father?” Lip said behind them.

Both him and Ian looked down at the couch. “No.” They said in unison. 

“You guys need to get out of here.” He heard Mandy say. “The cops have already been here.”

Mickey turned around and felt a wave of discomfort and anxiety run through his body. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Shit, we have to go.” Ian said.

There was one last goodbye before they made their way out the door, walking back across the street. The mere second they stepped into the car, before Mickey could even start up the engine he heard Ian immediately burst into tears. He looked over at him as he held his head in his hands, the sound of his muffled sobs filled the car. Without question he put leaned over putting his arms around him. Ian responded, putting his head into his chest and releasing his emotions. Mickey felt the lump in the back of his throat pressing and his urge to cry stronger than ever. Seeing him this upset nearly broke him.

His voice choked. “Hey.” He put his hands on his head as he held him, running them over his hair. “Hey, man. It’s going to be okay.” He said. He wasn’t sure what exactly he could say to make him feel better, or if anything could make him feel better. 

“Can we just go?” He pleaded. 

Mickey nodded vigorously. “Yeah. Yeah we can fucking go. Let’s go.” He listened to him, breaking his hug, starting the car and taking off.

They sat in an overly long but necessary silence. Mickey noticed Ian had seemed to pull himself together enough to not be profusely sobbing anymore, but was still sniffling and wiping his tears with his sleeve, looking out the window. This was the hardest part of the whole plan. Not leaving, not driving cross country and not even getting passed the border. Watching his love say goodbye to his family, seeing the pure pain and suffering he was going through at this very moment was nothing short of tragic. 

Mickey kept driving into the heart of the city, headed to their next stop.


	20. On The House.

  
**Mickey's perspective.**

Both Ian and Mickey shared a cigarette on the remainder of the drive to their next location. Normally they would each have one of their own but Mickey told him to hold back and conserve until they were out of state and in a suitable place to buy more. Ian still seemed upset but his crying subsided. He stared at the window longingly, his brain probably still on overdrive. Mickey again placed his hand on his thigh, keeping it securely locked in place and giving him a reminding squeeze periodically.

When they finally arrived to their stop Mickey pulled into the driveway and threw their cigarette out the crack of the window. He unhooked the wires again and turned to Ian who was already staring at him.

“Alright, let’s go.” He was about to open the door when Ian’s worried voice stopped him.

“Should we have called first?” He asked. He watched him duck his head under the window looking at the front of the house.

Mickey shook his head. “Nah, you don’t need an appointment with Jose.”

He watched Ian’s nose scrunch. “Jose?”

“Yeah, he’s a family friend. He’s got all types of hooks on shit. Fake ID’s, fake green cards, fake passports. You name it. Dude is legit as fuck.” He continued to open the door when Ian spoke again.

“Family friend?” He asked concerningly. 

“Yeah. I mean with my cousins and brothers. He’s Mexican so Terry hated his ass.”

It was late but he knew Jose would still be awake. He had a sudden flash back of him and Mandy waiting in this exact driveway when they were small children while their dad was inside trying to get some kind of illegal document made. Being on parole for multiple felonies put quite the damper on doing anything the legal way. He remembered it was the middle of winter and it was snowing hard, adding to the icey piles of slush at their feet. His teeth chattered violently as he shivered in the cold. Neither one of them had coats on and Terry had forced them to wait outside. Mandy was very small, toddling back and forth, keeping herself entertained by picking up snow balls and throwing them a few feet. Her balance was still a skill she was mastering as she slipped on an iced patch of snow, sliding down to her side and scratching her upper cheek. She began whaling in tears as Mickey picked her up, trying to wipe some of the gravel off her face when suddenly Terry came storming out, his face bloody and battered. He screamed some racial slurs at the top of his lungs as grabbed both him and Mandy by the forearms so tightly it made Mickey wince. He herded them into the car practically throwing them in the back seat. Mandy was barely two years old and probably needed a car seat but didn’t have one. He didn’t even buckle them in or tell them to do so. He lit a cigarette with the windows up, ranting to his two young children about how useless Mexicans were the whole way home. He had a vivid scene in his head of staring down at little Mandy, holding her tightly so she didn’t rattle loosely in the back of the car, her cheek still bleeding. Terry didn’t even notice, and if he did, he didn’t care. At that very second, as he was in the depth of his thoughts, he realized this memory was awful and extremely upsetting. He thought how funny it was that our brains always kept track of the painful experiences.

He was brought back to reality as Ian’s calming voice cleared his clouded thoughts. “You okay, Mick?” He asked, interrupting his flashback, leaning in towards him.

Mickey nodded quickly. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Ian’s eyebrows furrowed. “You looked lost in thought.”

He hesitated before he spoke, wondering if it was even worth it to explain or even bring up. He decided it was appropriate to briefly tell his story to the best of his memory and what stood out to him. After he finished he saw Ian look at him tenderly, his eyes following his effortlessly. 

“Your dad was a bigger piece of shit than mine, and that’s saying something. Terry was a soulless scumbag. You know that now, right?” He asked honestly.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he studied Ian’s face. The brightness of the street light illuminated him beautifully. His porcelain skin was so light it almost had its own aura, glowing in the night. The beam of light also hit his dark green eyes just right so they shimmered intensely, his pupils small making the color very distinct. It nearly took Mickey’s breath away as he stared at him, soaking in every inch of his beauty.

Ian blinked a few times flashing him a big, joyful smile. Mickey could tell he was reading him like a book. It wasn’t the only time he caught him checking him out. He smiled back, touching his face gently and giving it a light slap. Ian squinted adorably. “Come on, man. Let’s get this shit over with.”

“I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.” He heard Ian say before they both exited the car.

They walked up the driveway approaching the front door. The house was a dark blue color, the paint chipped in multiple spots and the windows still had bars over them just like they did when he was younger. He looked down on the porch step noticing a large flower pot filled to the brim with cigarette butts. To Mickey’s luck there was also a few joint roaches sitting around the edge. He grabbed a couple, stuffing them in his pocket, preparing to knock on the door. Suddenly there was a roaring echo of police sirens coming down the street. Right before they could go passing by, Mickey grabbed the collar of Ian’s hoodie, shoving him into a bed of shrubs directly across from the porch. They laid under them momentarily, breathing heavily and peaking through the bushes, watching two crown vicks go zooming by, fading out of sight. He looked over at Ian was paler than usual, his eyes wide with fear. He flashed him a short but evil glare. Mickey felt bad as he studied his worried expression. He grabbed his extended hand, helping him up and brushing some dirt off of him. He returned to the doorstep, balling his hand into a fist and hitting the door with a few booming pounds. They stood there for a few moments. He could see Ian in the corner of his eye. He was looking behind him at the street every ten seconds, panting loudly. If it was any quieter Mickey could probably hear the sound of his heart racing.

Finally, the door flew open. Before Mickey could react he was almost instantly pulled into a hug.

“Aye, Mickey! What the fuck are you doing here?!” Jose held him there for awhile before breaking apart. He still smelled like weed and cheap cologne, just like he did when he was a kid. Mickey couldn’t stop himself from smiling back at him as he saw his wide, happy grin. He still had his gold front tooth and the noticeable tattoo of a cross next to his eye. It was extremely faded but still clear.

“Hey, man. How you been? Long time no see.” He still couldn’t hide his smile. Jose’s eyes flashed to Ian, his smile fading instantaneously.

“Who the fuck is this?” He asked, his dark eyes switching instantly to fix on Ian.

Mickey watched him shift uncomfortably and spoke before he could respond. “Chill, man. It’s alright. This is Ian, my boyfriend.” He said confidently, keeping his smile. He saw Ian’s posture immediately relax.

“You look like the feds, man.” He said, sizing him up. They both didn't say anything. “Boyfriend, huh?” He began sizing up Mickey, also. “I'm not that surprised-” His eyes widened suddenly as he pointed to him. “Oh shit! You’re on the fucking news homie!” He exclaimed as he came to his own realization.

Now, just like Ian, Mickey was looking behind him at the street nervously. “Yeah, that’s why we’re here.”

Jose stepped back in the doorway making room for them to come inside. “Say no more. Come on in my friend.”

Mickey began walking inside, studying the house. Everything was still exactly how he remembered it. There were two bright red couches in front of an old style brick wall, a tall bookshelf stood next to them filled with candles, books and other trinkets. Another distinct memory flashed in his head. He was about 14 years old when Iggy had stopped by to buy some weed. There was a lit candle sitting on the bookshelf that he had bumped into, causing hot wax to pour all over the shelf. He watched it seep onto the shelf and drip to the floor.

He once again snapped out of his memories and watched Jose walk over to the back door. He cracked it open releasing a medium sized dog to run into the house. A pitbull mix.

“No fucking way.” Mickey said in surprise. “You still have Rosie?”

“Yep, still got her.” He said proudly.

She ran excitedly through the living room, jumping all over the place. She ran to Ian, standing on her back feet, attacking him in affection. She began licking his face vigorously as he was laughing hysterically, appearing to love every second of it.

“You didn’t tell me he had a dog!” He said, getting down on his kneed onto the ground to pet her. She rolled over on her back and he rubbed her stomach.

“You’re prick of a dad still in jail?” Jose asked, walking into the kitchen and returning with three Corona’s from the fridge, handing one each to him and Ian.

Mickey shrugged, twisting the cap off of his beer and taking a few much needed gulps. It was cold and refreshing. “Fuck if I know. I haven’t seen him since he got arrested. That piece of shit can die in prison for all I fucking care.” He was realized he more or less venting as he was recently reminded of Terry’s evil abuse.

“Good. Fuck that racist cracker. No offense." He said honestly.  
  
Mickey put his hands up. "None fucking taken."  
  
"I smoked him that one time. You remember that? You were just a little fucking kid, man. He started trying to spit game at my little sister. I wasn't having that shit." He said, slamming his beer bottle on the table.  
  
Mickey nodded in agreement. Before he could respond Ian interjected. "Sounds like Terry."  
  
"Speaking of prison, you broke out, right? That’s some hard shit homes.” Jose said, nodding his head slowly as he took a seat at the table in the dining room.

“Yeah, busted out and then went down to Mexico for a while. Now I’m going back. We’re going back.” He looked over at Ian who was still petting the dog as she licked his face again. It was a sweet scene.

 _Maybe I’ll get him a dog someday._ He thought to himself.

“Damn, that’s a long journey. You still got the passport I made you?” Jose asked reaching for an already rolled blunt on the table.

“Yep, still got it. We just need to get one made for him.” He tilted his head towards Ian.

“This fool’s going with you?” He said, sparking up the blunt. “Damn, you really in some serious get away love, like, some Bonnie and Clyde type shit.” He took a big inhale, handing it to Mickey. “That’s tight.”

He hit the blunt twice, passing it over to Ian who accepted eagerly. “Yeah we’ve been together for like three years. Some bumps in the road but here the fuck we are.” Mickey thought about this statement as there was still many bumps in the road, but he enjoyed bragging about his relationship with Ian. It was this small praise and appreciation he never got to do and was rewarding, even during the given circumstances. He continued. “We got to get our asses out of Chicago, though. The cops have already been looking for us.”

Jose’s expression changed. “Oh shit homie, for real? Well, come on. Step into my office.” He got up from his seat in the dining room, through the kitchen and into the basement door. Mickey followed behind him. He heard Ian’s footsteps as well as the pattering of dog paws on the floor. They stepped down the cement stairs, entering the room where all the business took place. Again, it looked nearly untouched since the last time Mickey had been here to get his illegal but legal documnetation. There was a white backdrop across the room with a black bar stool directly in the middle. About three feet in front of the stool was a large, standing camera. To the left was a long table set up with all sorts of printing supplies, passport booklets, and an enormous printer on the top.

“Alright,” Jose said, standing behind the camera. “Have a seat, red.”

He heard Ian’s stressful voice again. “I have to take a picture? Right now? Dressed like this?” He said. Mickey turned around, eyeing his outfit.

“Yeah, what’s the problem?” He asked.

He made a motion where he placed his hand under his neck, slicing it. “Nope, can’t wear this shit. I look like a bum.”

“No, you don’t. You look fine. Get up on the seat. Let’s get this over with.” Mickey began lightly pushing him towards the seat.

He shook his head, crossing his arms stubbornly and staying put. “I’m not taking a picture like this.”

Mickey groaned, rolling his eyes. “Oh come the fuck on. Are you serious?”

Before Ian could reply, Jose pointed to a rack on the back wall. “Relax, red. I got you. There’s some white people clothes hanging over there. You know, blouses and shit.”

Ian turned, looking relieved as he went towards the rack, immediately browsing through the shirts. A few moments passed by and Mickey was growing impatient.

“Just pick one and let’s go!” He said.

“What do you think?” Ian said, pulling out a light green button up dress shirt. “Green?” He picked up another shirt, this one with no buttons. “Or peach?” He looked deadly serious, waiting for answer.

Mickey put his hand on his forehead. “I don’t care.”

“Pick!” He ordered.

“Green! Shit!” He shouted.

“Pick two, red. You’ll need one for the ID and one for the passport.” Jose said over their banter.

“Oh, perfect!” Looking thrilled he began stripping, taking off his hoodie, then his shirt. It was a more than pleasant sight and Mickey didn’t look away. He never missed an opportunity to see his boyfriend undress. He watched his back muscles shift while he wrapped the shirt around his wide, toned shoulders.

“You know,” He heard Jose’s voice which suddenly brought him back to planet earth. “I always knew you were gay.”

Mickey shot him a look of shock as he heard Ian roar in laughter. “You fucking did not!” He said defensively stepping closer to Jose, checking to see if he was serious.

He nodded, taking another hit of the blunt. Mickey realized he had taken into the basement with him. “Fuck yes I did. I got that, what do they call that shit?” He snapped his finger, searching for the word.

“Gaydar.” Mickey looked back at Ian who was buttoning the green shirt.

He turned back to Jose as he snapped his fingers once more, looking satisfied. “Yep. That’s it.”

Mickey scowled. “Excuse me? What the fuck is that?”

“You know, gay radar. I can always tell if someone is gay. My cousin, Enrique, he got married, had three kids and shit and then started fucking his gay boss. My ma couldn’t believe it, but I always knew. Like I knew with you. I could tell you didn’t like pussy.” He stared past him, looking deep in thought.

Ian was still dying in laughter when Mickey shook his head in disbelief, throwing his hands in the air. “Okay can we just get this show on the fucking road please?” He pleaded.

Jose laughed. He walked over to the stool, positioning it and then turning the camera on. A red dot hit the center of the backdrop. Ian was just about to take a seat when Mickey stopped him.

“Hold on.” He reached up to the collar of his shirt, straightening it out neatly and plucking off a ball of lint. “There.” He smoothed out the pocket, looking back up at him, giving him an encouraging smile. “Perfect.”

Ian smiled back sweetly as he took a seat. He faced the camera willingly and broke out in a genuine grin.

“Ready?” Jose said, looking through the lens. “1… 2… 3.”

There was a small beep followed by a bright flash. 

“Alright. Change your shirt.” Jose ordered, taking another hit from the blunt.

Ian rushed off his seat, changing his shirt quickly and returning to his spot.

Jose handed him a pair of black framed reading glasses. “Put these on.” 

Ian looked at him questionably. 

“It adds character.” He said simply. Ian seemed to agree as he accepted the glasses, putting them on and smiling at the camera once more.

“1… 2… 3.” _Flash._ “Alright red, come check out your pics.” Mickey looked down as her heard loud panting. He found Rosie laying at Jose’s feet watching Ian’s every move.

He hopped of his seat practically running to the camera screen. He studied them for a while, analyzing them for several moments. “I don’t like them. God, I am so not photogenic. Can I do another?” He asked.

Jose nodded. “Sure—”

Mickey cut him off. “No, no, no. We got to go. No more bullshitting around. Print the damn things and we’re out.”

He was growing impatient now as he realized it was most likely at least one in the morning by now. They needed to head out and get on the road.

“Damn homes, have a little patience.” Jose took a memory card from the camera, walked over to the long table and began fiddling with he printer. After a few minutes, the large machine spit out a glossy, pristine copy of Ian’s pictures. Jose handled the pictures carefully doing some other tedious paperwork. They stood there waiting quietly. Mickey looked over to find Ian playing with the dog again, rubbing her stomach and practically crawling on top of her, giving her a hug. Finally, Jose returned with a freshly printed passport and ID. He handed them over to Ian.

“Wow, these are great!” He said happily, but his smile faded away. He held the ID closer up to his eyes. “Ronald Weston?” He read aloud, his tone disappointing.

Jose shrugged dismissively. “Yeah, I was thinking of that redhead dude off the Harry Potter movies. Good, right?”

“Sure.” Ian said hesitantly. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate.”

“What do I owe you?” Mickey asked even thought he knew they had no cash at this point.

Jose closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it homie, it’s on the house.”

Mickey was instantly relieved. “Ah, man. You’re the shit. Thank you.” He pulled him into a handshake that formed into a hug. 

“No problem. Any time.” He gave Mickey another hug, then made his way to Ian and shook his hand violently. 

“You take care of my homebody, man. He’s a crazy motherfucker.” He winked, and Ian laughed loudly. Mickey even let out a small chuckle. “Come on,” He said, walking toward the back of the basement towards another door. “We can go out this way. Don’t be a stranger Milkovich. Call me sometime.” He said genuinely. 

Mickey nodded. “Will, man. You take care.”

He watched Ian leaned over Rosie once again, giving her a few goodbye pets. “Bye, puppy.” He said before following behind Mickey and making their departure.

They made there way around the back of the house, up the steps and back into the driveway. As they got in the car, Mickey had the itch for another cigarette. Right as he was about to ask Ian for one he was already lighting up.

“What a nice guy.” He said happily.

Mickey smirked. “Yeah, Jose is a good fucking guy.” He took the cigarette Ian handed to him.

“You know,” Ian said as he put his seatbelt on. “That was the smoothest anything has gone for us in the last like, two months.”

Mickey was about to back out of the driveway but stared at Ian before pulling out. “Don’t fucking say that! Don’t jinx us, man.” He pointed in his face. “Things are going to get better from here on out. It’s just you and me now babe.” 

After realizing the word that came out of his mouth he immediately felt his cheeks become hot. There was only one other time Mickey had said this word and it was during the heat of a very hot moment. He felt somewhat bashful but he didn’t take his eyes off of him.

“Babe, huh?” He repeated, a sly smile growing on his face.

Mickey rolled his eyes, laughing in embarrassment. “Yeah, man. Come on. Couples call each other that shit, right?” He asked sincerely even though he knew that's exactly what couples called each other.

Ian was still grinning. “Yeah, they do. And it’s about fucking time you said it.” He gave him a playfully nudge on the shoulder.

Mickey smiled again, finally backing out of the driveway and taking off into the night. They had a long journey ahead of them, and it was just beginning.


	21. Lap Nap.

  
**Ian's perspective.**

They had been driving for nearly seven hours now, and it was close to eight in the morning. The ride was uncomfortable and hot considering they were now in the flatlands of Missouri. The highway was starting to get busier now that the early morning work traffic was rolling in, but being in the country with significantly less of a population was allowing them to cruise right along, weaving and bobbing between cars. Ian couldn't help himself from getting many flashbacks and near dejavu from their last road trip. This time around, though the circumstances were still dark and threatening, the intention was entirely different. This time there was absolutely no doubt in Ian's mind he would be joining Mickey in his journey across the border to start a new life in a different country. It was finally their chance to begin their lives together and start a clean slate. Though this wasn't exactly how he envisioned it, Ian was ready to make this commitment to his lover regardless of their legal status. It had been nothing but obstacles finding his way back to Mickey but he was finally getting his chance to show him that his love was real and he wasn’t going to anywhere this time.

Ian was incredibly sleep deprived. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but he couldn’t possibly think about sleep now. He couldn't imagine how Mickey was feeling, driving for so long without any breaks. Though he was extremely tired and barely able to keep focus, his mind was still racing, filled with anxiety as he brainstormed numerous scenarios of how they could get caught and what could possibly happen. He had a feeling he wouldn't truly be content until they were well past the Mexican border, if they ever did get there. Mickey was periodically checking on him, making sure he was okay and not totally losing it which was relieving. If it wasn't for him trying to calm him down every so often he would be even more of a mess then he already was. So far the car stayed quiet most of the ride but the silence was comfortable and even tranquil. He spent most of the ride staring out the window, watching things flash by as he reflected on his final goodbyes to his family. His heart was still aching with uneasiness as he wasn't sure when he would see any of his siblings again. He tried his hardest to focus on the light at the end of the tunnel and not get wrapped up in gloomy, depressing thoughts, but it was hard to stray away from them. They were always there, in the back of his mind, and he wasn't sure if they would ever fully dissipate.

There was a brief moment in the beginning of their drive as they were heading out of Chicago where Ian gazed yearningly out the window, watching the light of the city fade behind him. He physically turned himself around in his seat to watch the now small, illuminated city disappear behind him. Something about watching it fade out of sight was very metaphorical and profound to Ian, as it was the first time he had seen such a sight knowing he wouldn't be coming back to it. The lit up buildings against the night sky was a beautiful and memorable scene. It even brought a tear to his eye. He noticed Mickey seemed to step on the gas as soon as they were out of the Southside. He knew that he could care less about saying any goodbyes to the city. He was happy to leave the place in the dust, though Ian was singing quite a different tune. He figured he would probably be home sick for a while, at least during their trip after spending hours in the car. He couldn’t say much about how he would feel after they got to Mexico but he knew right now he missed his family and would call them as soon as he could.

He looked over at Mickey occasionally just to make sure he wasn't nodding off at the wheel. Surprisingly he was very much awake and remained focused on driving. Ian felt flattered as Mickey kept his hand on his thigh nearly the entire ride, even when he switched positions of shifted sides, his hand went right back to where he liked to keep it. He would stroke it every so often reminding Ian of his affection anyway he could. Over the years Ian had learned that body language was a big think for Mickey as he took every opportunity possible to express it and show his feelings through his touch. He remembered there was a time when he wouldn't even meet his lips none the less hold his hand. Now, times were much different and the tender love that Mickey showed him on a daily basis was more than significant. To Ian, it was quite a compelling feeling to love someone so much that when you looked into their eyes, you saw that they felt the exact same way. There were many instances where Ian didn’t know if this was really real, if he was truly lucky enough to have Mickey’s love. It was the love that Ian knew he didn't deserve but it was the love that he wanted forever, and craved every waking second. Even after everything they had went through and the hell he had forced Mickey into, he still wanted him fully and that gave him quite an indescribable feeling.

It was nearly 100 degrees outside and for being in an older car the air-conditioner wasn't great. He rolled the window down to get some air but it was so hot that he quickly rolled it back up before anymore stale hotness could seep in. He could feel sweat collecting on the back of his neck and even on the inside of his palms. He had taken his dark blue hooded sweatshirt off hours ago but he was still feeling the need to remove more layers to get some sort of relief from the heat. He couldn’t last another minute in the baking temperature. He began taking off his shirt, attempting to rip it off of him almost in a panic as he was in a tall man in a very limited space. He finally started peeling it off of him as it stuck to his skin from the dampness. He panted loudly as he got it over his head successfully, tossing it in the back seat. He leaned his head on the headrest letting out a deep sigh of relief as he could almost feel his body heat drop dramatically. He didn’t even have to look over to see that his boyfriend was staring at him. He was staring, but glancing at the road every three seconds or so and only because he had to. He knew if he had done this when he wasn’t driving a vehicle he wouldn’t keep his eyes off of him. Ian tried to keep a straight face and look directly at the windshield as if he had interest in where they were going but he failed miserably as a small side smile crept on his face. Mickey’s light, flirtatious tone was like music to his ears and it was as if all his worries became temporarily dormant.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, his eyes shifting up and down as he studied him. “Stripping for me Gallagher?” He teased.

Ian couldn’t stop himself from letting out a small chuckle. His first idea was to dodge the flirting and play hard to get it but his plan didn’t seem to hold weight. “Maybe I am.” He said giving Mickey a suggestive wink. He saw that he smirked again but it soon transformed into an extremely sexy lip bite.

“Mmm.” Mickey hummed. “You’re going to make me pull this car over.” He said, now grinning excitedly. 

Ian laughed louder for a moment but leaned to his side getting close to his ear. Just close enough to breath in it and whisper lightly. Mickey was very responsive when he did this and he knew only good things would result from this action. He wasn’t touching him at all but he knew the softness of his whisper was equal to reaching out and feeling him. 

“Maybe you don’t have to.” His words formed into a breathless whisper as he still kept his eyes on him, watching his expression intently. He loved nothing more than to watch Mickey’s sexual excitement grow. The physical chemistry the both of them shared was so on fire that it almost wasn’t even worth the build up. If Mickey had it his way he would most likely get straight to fucking, but Ian enjoyed the effort of making him crack. The suspense was almost enough to get him off entirely.

Ian knew he had to be smart about this move as Mickey was diving a car, but he figured he would be not only entertained but incredibly turned on by a little spontaneity. He still breathed in his ear softly as his tongue somehow made it’s way out of his mouth to the edge of his earlobe. He wanted to smile as he heard Mickey’s weak wince in response but he knew he had to keep himself together and not get too boastful. He continued licking his earlobe generously but formed it into a light suck before he made his way down the side of his neck. If Ian wasn’t mistaken he could almost feel the goosebumps erupting against his mouth. He turned his head so he could comfortably kiss his collarbone, pulling down the neck of his shirt.

“I bet you’re hard right now.” Ian said softly, still kissing him between the breaks in his words. He looked down at his crotch just for confirmation and sure enough, the imprint of his cock was showing firmly even through his thick Levis. He placed his hand on his abdomen. The intensity was so strong the skin contact was almost enough to send an electric shock between them. He slid his hand down to his waist slowly and cautiously, being sure not to risk any chance of moving too quickly and missing a second of this sacred moment. He figured he would do most of the talking and would be the one sailing this ship but Mickey was always full of surprises.

“Yeah,” His tone was breathy but willing. “What the fuck are you going to do about it?”

Ian almost stopped mid thigh stroke to glance up at him in shock and utter astonishment, but instead he knew that it was better to simply not address it and just laugh to himself. He continued stroking his thigh but worked his way to his crotch suddenly wrapping his hand around his hard shaft.

“What the fuck do you want me to do about it?” He asked sternly, still cupping his hand firmly around his erection. He didn’t have to look to know that Mickey was gripping the steering wheel tighter as Ian kept his hand on his him, rubbing it slowly but dramatically through his jeans. Though Ian’s mind was on overdrive, he seemed to have absolutely no worry nor care in the fact that Mickey was driving a car and was extremely distracted by his forced sexual arousal. Like before, Ian assumed that Mickey wouldn’t have a response to what he thought was a rhetorical question. Before he began unbuttoning his pants and beginning his service, Mickey’s pleading voice broke into a harmonious melody.

“I want you to suck my fucking cock. Right now.” Though he was nearly begging him, his words formed an order rather than a statement. As much as Ian wanted to resist obeying his commands, his urge to cave in and please his man was much stronger. He began undoing his pants again as Mickey continued. 

“Fuck, you look so fucking good right now babe.” Ian felt his heart throb in a series of speeding beats as he felt Mickey’s hand touch his bicep, still keeping his other hand on the wheel. He squeezed it tightly as Ian felt the imprint of his fingers pressing into his skin. “God damn, you’re so fucking fine.” 

He felt his hand go from his upper arm to his shoulder, then to the base of his neck. He knew what this meant immediately. Before he could respond Mickey grabbed the hair on the back of his head and shoved his mouth down his cock. He formed his mouth around him tightly beginning to salivate all his dick, starting from the head. Ian could only hope that Mickey was focused on the road and not too distracted, but he wouldn’t be able to confirm that. He was breathing deeply as he increased his speed, bobbing his head up and down at a rapid pace. Mickey gradually started moaning louder, his fingers still wrapped in his hair, pulling it firmly as he guided his head. Ian knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. A few more strokes with his wet mouth and Mickey would be done.

“Oh shit.” He heard Mickey say, his tone rang with excitement. 

Ian interrupted his mouth pumping, looking up at him and analyzing his face. “Are you going to come?” He asked, biting his lip again for an added effect.

Mickey looked down at him for an instant, smiling slightly before gazing back at the road.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.” He pulled his hair so tight this time it almost hurt. Ian increased his pace faster now than ever, sucking firmly as his saliva dripped down the base of his cock, seeping down into the creases of his groin. He brought his hand to accompany his mouth, jerking him and pulling intensely. He could feel his cock pulse from inside his mouth, building up to his orgasm. Ian was ready for him to explode.

“Here it comes.” Mickey said suddenly.

Ian was sucking vigorously but as soon as he heard those words he stopped instantly letting Mickey’s come fill the inside of his mouth. It was a rather large load since it had been built up for so long. It shot to the back of his throat so there wasn’t much to swallow, but he gulped down what was left without a word, licking his lips and staring back at his boyfriend.

Mickey had an expression of shock on his face, panting heavily as if he had just ran a mile.

Ian giggled unavoidably. “You okay?” 

He saw him wipe a glimmer of sweat off his forehead. “Well that was a fucking first.” 

Ian had assumed it was, and was glad he was able to share it with him. At that very moment he thought of all the future ‘firsts’ they would have together. There was so much to be shared together, and this was just the beginning.

\---

They had driven for a few more miles, remaining silent for most of the ride. Ian knew Mickey had to be exhausted by now and was ready to take over driving for a while. Especially after releasing himself earlier. He had already asked a few times but of course Mickey declined. He assumed he wanted to feel like he was in charge, not showing that he was too tired to drive and had control of the situation, but it was a long way to Mexico and Ian wasn’t going to stop asking until he agreed. This time around he had his hand on Mickey’s thigh proudly, only removing it to change positions or light a cigarette. Ian had smoked their last one in the pack and he knew it was only a matter of time before one of them got antsy for another.

"I’m fucking starving." Ian said finally, throwing the empty pack of Marlboros in the back seat.

Mickey scratched the back of his head, looking irritated and overly tired. “Tell me about it. We need to get some fucking money. I need cigarettes and a meal right fucking now.”

Ian chuckled slightly. "Jesus, okay. Once we hit my bank I can go in and close my account, take out all my cash and we should be good. We’ll get some food and some smokes."

Mickey huffed in impatience. "Your bank? Why can't we just pull it all out at an ATM?"

He looked at him questionably. “I can’t just pull it out at an ATM. They’ll track that somehow. I want to get it all at once. Close out my account completely so I don’t have to worry about it.”

Mickey didn’t say anything. He was feeling his eyebrow raise almost automatically. "You’ve never had a bank account, have you?"

He watched as his eyes flashed to him, staring at him as if he was insane. "You think I've had a fucking bank account?"

Ian didn't answer. He pulled out his phone opening an app and typing in his bank name to find any close locations. After a moment it finally loaded. “Okay, according to this we'll pass by one in forty two miles."

"Forty two fucking miles?! Fuck." He watched Mickey rub his forehead stressfully. He reached into his pocket suddenly pulling out what looked like joint roaches. "Here." He said passing them to him. "Spark one of these."

“Oh, right on.” Ian said as he accepted them eagerly, placing one of the roaches in his mouth and lighting it. He took a few starter puffs until it was completely ignited, inhaling a large drag before passing it back to Mickey. Ian could almost instantly feel a rush of relaxation set over him. He shifted in his seat getting more comfortable, leaning his head back on the headrest and once again taking a deep, relieving sigh.

"I can't wait to get out on the beach." Ian said finally, his mind whirling with images of him and his love walking by the ocean water, drinking alcoholic beverages and eating authentic Mexican food.

"It's pretty fucking nice. Way better than the shithole we came from." Ian saw Mickey tap his hands repeatedly on the steering wheel. He knew he was aching desperately for a dose of nicotine.

"I'm going to get the biggest margarita and I'm going to get fucking loaded." Ian said happily not being able to prevent an excited smile growing on his face as he thought about their future. "And we're going to have sex on the beach." He said firmly throwing a serious gaze at Mickey. He was already staring back at him, his eyebrows almost speaking for him. Before Ian could respond he broke out in an eruption of laughter. It was funny but the marijuana made it even funnier.

"You know," Mickey said before throwing the tiny joint roach out the window. "It's not all margaritas and sunshine down there. There's a lot of sketchy fucking people and parts of it are way worse than the shittiest places in Chicago. There's a lot of drugs and cartels and shit. We don't want to get caught up in that."

Ian scowled. "I think you'd be more involved in that than me." He said truthfully.

Mickey nodded his head. "You're damn right I was involved in it. And I'm not dragging you into that shit."

Ian looked over at him. "Why not?"

"What do you mean why not?” He said accusingly. “Because it's bad shit, Ian. We’re talking big money."

He looked over at him feeling his lips tighten. "Are you trying to say I can't handle it?"

He nodded, shifting his eyes back and forth from him to the road. "That's exactly what I'm trying to say. A little delicate flower like you from Illinois could get in a lot of trouble down in a foreign country like that. I'm talking pull your fucking teeth out and cut your fucking fingers off for saying the wrong shit."

"According to our sex positions, I think you're the delicate little flower here, Mikhailo." Ian knew he must have been very stoned because this was the first time he had addressed him by his real name.

Mickey flipped him off. "First of all, that’s not how you say my name.”

Ian nearly jumped from the headrest looking at him uncomfortably. “It’s not?” He asked feeling very concerned and also embarrassed as he felt his cheeks become hot. 

“It’s Mikhailo.” Mickey said confidently. Ian could have sworn he said it that exact same way.

“Mikhailo.” He repeated quietly. He was ashamed he couldn’t even pronounce his own boyfriend’s name right until now.

“And what the fuck are you trying to say?” Mickey continued. “You don't like fucking me?"

Ian rolled his eyes dramatically. "You know damn well that's not what I meant so don't even go there."

There was a long pause before Mickey spoke again. He seemed to be deep in thought. “You want me to fuck you one of these days?" He suggested.

Ian shrugged indifferently. "Yeah, maybe. Why not? No harm in switching it up a bit." He said honestly. He enjoyed the idea of breaking out of their usual routine, feeling Mickey behind him for a change. He wouldn’t mind being dominated for once.

"I guess but I don't think I'm going to make much of an impact." Mickey said, his tone bashful.

"What do you mean?" Ian asked staring over at him.

He rolled his eyes now, too. "I mean my six and a half incher is decent but it's no comparison to your horse cock." He flashed his eyes at him again but kept his gaze on the road.

Ian rolled his lips in exaggeration. "Oh stop. That doesn’t matter to me. I'd still want to experience it. Wouldn't you?" He asked seriously, looking at him for an answer.

Mickey looked back at him, nodding his head again. "Yeah. Yeah, I would." He put his hand over Ian’s on his thigh and squeezed it a few times, smiling as he did it.

\---

Ian had successfully pulled every last penny out of his account totaling to $9,235.76 exactly. He had more money than he anticipated which was reassuring. When he was temporarily in jail after his van catastrophy, Fiona had suggested withdrawing some money to bail him out, but he remembered declining. If he had been stable on his medication he may have agreed but he wanted to save all his earnings and he was glad he did. It was a solid amount for Mickey and him to survive on for a few months before they needed to really start thinking about getting money somehow. He thought about jobs he could get down in Mexico, stressing slightly about the unknown but he had trust in Mickey knowing he would have things taken care of financially.

As soon as he withdrew his money, there was a corner shop in the same strip mall as the bank. Ian wasn’t even sure what city they were in or how many more miles they had to go. All he knew is he hadn’t eaten in nearly 24 hours and now that the anxiety was wearing off his stomach rumbled with hunger. Mickey waited in the car while he was in the bank, but joined him to go get something to eat from the corner store. It was still well over 100 degrees and the heat was beaming on him. He began ripping off his shirt again, not being able to handle the sunlight burning on his back.

He heard Mickey’s aggressive tone. "Can you put your shirt on please?" He said as he closed the car door.

"Why?" Ian asked honestly wiping a few drips of sweat from his chest.

"Because you don’t need to walk in the store shirtless. I don't want my boyfriend walking around shirtless in public like it's some kind of fucking free for all." He said checking his hair in the reflection of the window. He pushed his cowlick back but it flopped down again. He threw his hand in defeat, walking around the car. Ian respected his wishes and put on his shirt, even though he didn’t want to.

"I'm gonna get me three cans of barbequed pringles and a big ass ice cold coke.” He heard Mickey say behind him as they walked through the doorway. 

Ian chuckled, still feeling a little loopy from the weed. “Oh, that’s nutritious.” The coolness of the air-conditioned store hit them instantly. As soon as they entered, they both went their separate ways on their own journeys to find snacks. Ian went straight to the back of the store finding the drink section grabbing a tall can of Rolling Rock. It was the next best thing Old Style and obviously they didn’t stock any in some redneck town in Missouri. He also helped himself to a large Sprite before making his way back to the snack section. He got some Gardettos, an over priced bag of teriyaki beef jerkey and two rice crispy treats. 

When he was finished picking out his items he met Mickey at the check out line. Ian studied his hands and sure enough he was holding three cans of barbeque pringles, a liter of coke, what looked like an extra large slimjim, a pack of starburst and also a tall Rolling Rock.

“You fucking copied me.” Mickey said shoving him playfully.

Ian winked. “Great minds.” 

Upon paying for the items he made sure to get three packs of cigarettes so they wouldn’t have stop for more any time soon. Before stepping into the car, Ian stopped Mickey.

“I’m driving.” Ian stated, throwing his food items in the back seat.

Mickey began shaking his head about to say something but he cut him off. “Nope, you’ve driven for ten hours now. It’s my turn.”

He didn’t say anything but got in the seat, starting the wires up and pulling out of their parking spot. He looked over at Mickey as he practically ripped the top off of the pringle can shoving about nine in his mouth at once.

“Fuck I’m so fucking hungry!” He shouted continuing to shove food in his face.

Ian laughed, opening his bag of jerky and taking a few pieces out. 

They ate together in silence as Ian returned to the highway, getting on the entrance ramp and speeding up gradually.

“You want a cigarette?” Ian asked opening his Sprite and taking a few large gulps. There was no response. He glanced over at Mickey. He was dead asleep, his head leaning on the side of the window, pringle can still opened in his hand.

He smiled to himself, reaching over and putting his hand gently on the side of his face admiring him as he began to snore. He reached his hand back down to his thigh, placing it there while he slept.

He returned his eyes to the open road.


	22. Loving In Luxury

  
**Ian's perspective.**

The night fall crept up slowly but steadily as the darkness consumed them, the gleam of the streetlights passing over the car every few seconds. Ian had been driving for about four solid hours straight, his eyes heavy with complete exhaustion. He had been chain-smoking during the whole drive trying his best to stay awake and keep his eyes peeled on the road. He had the window down to keep a constant breeze blowing at his face keeping him somewhat alert. He had already downed his beer within minutes after buying it and his urge for another was strong. He didn't want to make any stops until Mickey woke up but if he didn't get some sort of sleep soon he was worried he might run them off the road. He checked his phone periodically texting his brother off and on, letting him know they were safe and still in route on their road trip. He knew as soon as they crossed the border and they were officially in a different country his cell service would most definitely end. Would he be able to get a new one? Ian was still very unsure of the future and had no real idea of what to expect in Mexico. Would he find a job quickly? Would they find a place to live? Did Mickey have friends down there? The long hours of driving left him to be solitary in his thoughts. Though he was sleep deprived his mind was more than active as his brain danced with images of the unknown future. 

One thought that Ian tried to avoid thinking about was the fact that he had committed murder. Even though the man he killed was nothing less than a junkie and drug dealer, he still took someone's life. He was fully aware of the given circumstances and knew he did it as an act of not only frustration but protection of his loved ones, but he still didn't know if he could ever completely let go of that guilt. It had only been a day since it happened and now that the shock was wearing off and regret was starting to set in, he realized just how horrible it was. If Mickey were awake he would be pouring his thoughts to him, venting and confiding in him, but as he slept it was just him and his mind.

The more his head raced, the more the beaches of Mexico were looking better by the second.

In the midst of his daydreaming and nearly half asleep, he caught something in the corner of his eye. He looked to his right to see a blurry array of lights just across the highway. He was too far away to make out the brightly lit sign but he was approaching it fast. The colorful, vibrant lights were flashing obnoxiously but were for some reason, very appealing to him. He had to squint tightly to be sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. As the bright colored building became closer and more legible, Ian could finally make out the wording.

_Cherokee Hotel & Resort Casino._

He was surprised to see any sort of resort in such a secluded area. He had been driving for miles now with barely any sign of civilization and he wasn't sure what state they were even in, but something about the illuminating lights of the casino building were calling his name and luring him in, much like a moth to an outdoor light. 

One thing was certain. He had a pocket full of money, his lover by his side and the thought of a hotel bed was too tempting to pass up. 

He took the very next exit, getting off the highway and taking the guided directions to the resort. The building appeared much larger than in the distance. There was a beautiful fountain in front of the main entrance with a life sized orca whale statue jumping in action over the pool of water. There were two huge totem poles painted black and red on either side and a golden plated banner engraved with the words, "If you were here, you'd be home by now!" He could hear the flow of the pouring water through his window as he zoomed by it. As tacky as it all seemed he was still entranced by the colors and the Native American vibes the artwork was giving off. As he drove past the fountain he suddenly came to a round-about that led him to the drive-up entrance of the hotel. There were four sliding doors where people were walking in and out of. Outside were several gold baggage carts with luggage arranged on them. To the left of him in the far corner of the entrance there were a few suited men standing close to one another having a conversation. As Ian was pulling forward he slowed down gradually, leaning his head down to stare out Mickey's window. One of the men seemed to notice he was pulling in and came walking towards the car. He noticed his passenger was sleeping soundly and walked around the front of the car, kneeling down to Ian's window. 

"Good evening sir." He smiled revealing a set of large, white teeth. "Are you checking in with us tonight?" He asked.

Ian looked back at the entrance doors again, then back to the man. "Uh, yeah. We are." He spoke hesitantly but he had his mind made up.

"Wonderful. Can we offer you our valet service? We can take your luggage and park your vehicle for you." He said, still smiling.

"Uhm..." Ian thought about this, and though it was a nice gesture, his eyes flashed down to the mess of wires near the ignition realizing it probably wasn't a good idea. "No thank you. We'll find a parking spot."

"No problem, sir. Parking is through this driveway." He stepped out of the way letting him drive past him.

Ian continued, following the man's directions and finding an empty parking spot. The lot was decently filled and rather busy as people were parking, getting out of their cars or loading their things in and leaving.

He shut the car off, turning to Mickey who seemed to be alive now, opening his eyes and yawning.

"Morning, sunshine!" Ian said excitedly. "Come on, let's get out of this car."

Mickey squinted, looking out the window at his surroundings. "Where the fuck are we?" He asked, scratching the back of his head.

"You'll see. Let's go." He opened the door, stepping out of the car and taking a moment to stretch his limbs. He was more than ready for a break from the car. He proceeded to pop the trunk, grabbing their belongings and hauling them over his shoulders. Mickey reached for his bag but he stopped him. 

"I got it." He said quietly. He was about to shut the trunk when Mickey shoved his arms in suddenly grabbing a small, zipped bag. He looked at Ian with his eyebrows raised, rattling the bag so the pills shook loudly in their bottles.

"Forgetting something?" He said, tucking the bag under his arm.

"Not anymore." He winked. 

Ian walked in front of Mickey, leading the way back to the front doors of the hotel. Before they could get inside he could hear Mickey's enthusiastic voice echoing behind him.

"Oh shit, a casino?!" 

Ian smiled as he could sense the excitement in his voice.

He was excited, too, as this was the first place they had gone together in years where they didn't have to hide from the world. They could roam freely and do what they wanted, together. Ian couldn't even recall a time that they really had a chance to do anything fun together, even when they weren't criminals. Ian's illness and Terry's abuse usually got in the way of spending time together as a real couple. Maybe that's what urged Ian so strongly to follow the colorful lights and take that exit off the highway.

They made their way to through the lobby and to the check-in desk. The room was huge with tall ceilings and a gigantic gas fireplace lit quaintly in the center. It was surrounded by cozy looking furniture where a few people sat and were chatting quietly amongst themselves. Ian looked beyond the lobby where could hear the sweet sounds of slot machines ringing, dinging and chiming in the distance. He wanted to keep following the bright lights until he found a machine to sit at, light a cigarette and have a fancy cocktail but a room to check into was first on the agenda. The image of a bed with clean white sheets made his exhaustion even more intense.

He approached the counter to face a short blond woman with entirely too much makeup who was busy typing at her computer. She noticed his presence and looked up from her screen and over her oval shaped lenses. She smiled warmly and greeted him. They talked briefly for a few moments as Ian requested a room for the night. She gave him several different deals and options to choose from until finally going over the suite prices. She explained the amenities and luxuries of the room. At first Ian was thinking this was extremely unnecessary and a normal room would do fine. He looked behind him to find Mickey standing with his hands on his hips staring into the casino area, studying it longingly, his eyes bright with wonder. Ian looked back to the woman, smiling eagerly.

"We'll take it!" He said excitedly. 

She smiled back at him. "Fantastic!" She began entering his information into her computer, stopping abruptly and staring up at him over her lenses again. "Can I have your I.D, sir?" She asked.

Ian swallowed as his mouth filled with saliva. The word alone sent him into a near panic. Should he use his real I.D, or the I.D Jose had made for him? He only had no more than three seconds to decide. He became hot as he reached into his pocket for his wallet, pulling out one his I.Ds and handing it over to her nervously. His anxiety skyrocketed as he watched her study it for a few moments, looking down at the picture, then back up at him again. He felt a rush of relief instantly as she continued to smile sweetly. 

"Here you are, Mr. Gallagher." She said passing the card back to him.

Ian made the decision to give her his old I.D, saving his fake one for when he truly needed it. He thought it was best to use it as little as possible. Apparently Chicago murder news didn't travel far into other states.

The check-in lady opened her desk drawer grabbing two key cards, scanning them before slipping them into a white envelope and hanging them over to him.

"Enjoy your stay." She said. Ian thought her cheeks must have been hurting from smiling for so long.

He thanked her, walking back towards Mickey who was still staring admirably at the slot machines.

"Ready?" He asked him, handing him a key card to their room.

"We're staying the night?" He asked, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas. 

Ian giggled lightly. "You think I just felt like carrying all our shit?"

Mickey rolled his eyes, nudging his shoulder playfully.

\---

Ian inserted the key card into the slot on the suite door. It beeped and flashed three times before the small light on the handle turned green. He pushed it open, entering the room and taking a look around before setting their bags in the entry way. The room was much bigger than he expected with a large flat screen TV, a small kitchen area, a huge open window and another doorway where the king-size bed most likely was. The Native American theme was evident in their room as the color choices were red, black and teal. The décor included more totem poles and beautifully painted animals, as well as an intricate tribal pattern on the enormous rug in the middle of the room. After enough analyzing Ian automatically made his way to the kitchen, opening every cabinet and compartment possible, checking what was inside each one. He found a small, deep drawer under the counter that was filled with an ice bucket, a bottle of champagne and a few flute glasses. Next to that was another cabinet with a glass window over the front revealing numerous bottles of high quality liquor. Ian's eyebrows raised as he was incredibly impressed with the amenities of the suite he had purchased and it most definitely exceeded his expectations. He never had the opportunity to stay at any hotel this luxurious, and by the looks of Mickey's face, he hadn't either.

"You like it?" Ian asked proudly, reaching for two flute glasses and the champagne bottle.

"Hell yeah I fucking like it." Mickey said still staring around the giant room in awe. "This was probably so fucking expensive." He said quietly but Ian could still hear him.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It wasn't too bad. Don't worry about it." Ian meant what he had said, as there was no price that he wasn't willing to pay to see a smile on this man's face. As he was just about to pop the cork on the champagne, Ian second guessed himself. He put the flute glasses back into place, returning to the liquor cabinet pulling out a bottle of Jameson whiskey, Mickey's usual poison. He snooped around some more until he found some regular glasses, filling them up with shots full of whiskey and holding one up for Mickey to accept. He looked thrilled as he grabbed the glass from him, immediately shooting it down his throat and pouring himself another. Ian took his a little more subtly but was able to keep up as the shots seemed to keep being poured. Mickey was no rookie when it came to polishing off a fifth of whiskey but Ian didn't fall far behind. They stood there at the counter top for several minutes taking multiple shots until Ian thought it was in his best interest to break away before he got too wasted. He wasn't sure if it was the Ukrainian in his blood but Mickey could drink all night without getting sick if he let him. He stepped away from the counter as he seemed to be feeling no pain and made his way into the other room where their king sized bed was. He suddenly felt the need to strip down since he had been wearing the same clothing for at least 24 hours and was sure his scent was becoming rather pungent.

Ian stood there for a moment, his hands awkwardly on his hips as he waited for Mickey to say something or respond in some type of way. Before he knew it Mickey was stripping down too, taking off all his clothes until he was completely nude. He watched him smell himself as his face grimaced. Without saying anything he walked into the bathroom and Ian followed behind. When they entered, Ian was instantly blown away shock, stopping in his tracks to study the sight before him. The bathroom itself was bigger than his room back at home. It was lined with black marble countertops complimented by shiny gold accents. There was a thermostat on the wall for heating floors and a gigantic jacuzzi tub with plenty of room for the both of them. 

"Damn. This is some fancy ass shit, babe." He stood at the foot of the tub with his hands on his sides, just as he was earlier staring into at the slot machines only this time he was naked. Ian felt his stomach flip in excitement as he heard the term 'babe' escape Mickey's lips. He was unsure if he would ever get tired of it.

Ian had was thinking out loud as he stared at the oversized tub. "I'm lucky if I even get a luke warm shower most days." He reached his hands over to the faucet, turning the shiny rhinestone knobs and adjusting the temperature. They both climbed in slowly. He noticed a small bottle of some sort of body wash beside him. He poured it under the water and sudsy bubbles began filling the tub rapidly.

"FUCK!" Mickey shouted. Ian jumped.

"Jesus, what?!" He asked, suddenly alarmed.

He only had his feet in while Ian was already emerged, sitting in the water. 

"It's fucking scorching!" He yelled.

"Oh chill out." Ian said under his breath as he rolled his eyes, reaching back over to one of the knobs and turning on colder water but noticing that steam was filling the room rather quickly.

"Better?" He asked, putting his foot on his playfully under the water.

Mickey didn't answer but instead sat in the water comfortably. After the tub filled to a suitable level Ian turned off the faucet. They were across from each other but he was still stroking his foot that had made its way up to his thigh. He stared in his eyes longingly as he broke out in a smile. He watched as Mickey attempted to hide it but failed. He grinned back at him as Ian could feel his foot playing with his now.

"What?" Mickey said, giving him that head tilt he did when he was flirting. He opened his mouth just enough to show his tongue which made Ian almost melt into the water. 

"Come here." Ian said, motioning his hand in the water for him to come closer but he wasn't sure if it was seen over the massive mountain of suds.

Mickey smiled again, that adorable half grin that was beyond attractive. He floated forward as he held his hands out, their fingers intertwining and once again meeting each other's eyes. He kissed him lightly and Ian let out an automatic moan in comfort. 

"This is nice, yeah?" Ian said not taking his eyes off of him, watching his every move. 

Mickey nodded slightly. "It's fucking perfect." He kissed the top of his head as he thought his cheeks were turning many shades of red.

\---

After they bathed each other and were finally clean, Ian walked back into their room. Before he could even attempt to find his clothes he was suddenly pushed, falling back on the bed, his arms being pinned above his head. Mickey's soft lips came began colliding with his in an instant force. Besides the alcohol, it was as if the mere touch of his skin on his was enough to diminish his worries and caused his anxiety to subside.

He was being especially soft and gentle, kissing him firmly but taking his time dancing his tongue all around his mouth. Ian broke away for a moment, staring into his eyes deeply, his pupils extremely dilated so barely any blue was visible. It was daunting but mesmerizing.

"You don't want to go downstairs? Gamble for a bit? Drink some drinks? Have some dinner?" Ian was throwing suggestions at him that he thought would be tempting but nothing seemed to be swaying him as he shook his head theatrically at every idea. 

"No! All that can wait." He met his lips again, giving him another kiss before moving to his neck. Ian shifted in comfort and exhaled as goosebumps emerged on his skin. He kissed him further down his neck, across his chest and finally to his lower abdomen. Any further and it would all be over.

"Are you sure?" Ian asked one last time, propping his head up and staring down at him as his face was level to his erection.

"No more questions!" He hissed.

His head hit the pillow instantly as he obeyed his orders. Once Mickey's warm, wet mouth wrapped around him he closed his eyes in pleasure preparing to enjoy every second of his performance. Before he knew it he was slowly dozing off to sleep as his resistance to exhaustion finally gave out.


	23. Jackpot.

  


**Ian's perspective.**

Ian's eyes peeled open. He woke up very confused and distraught as he was in the darkness, a large white comforter over his body. He was warm and comfortable lying in bed but was still groggy and probably could sleep even longer if he rolled over. He glanced over at the clock on the night stand next to the bed.

1:37am.

He wasn't sure what time he even fell asleep. He looked over at the armchair beside the bed to see his clothes neatly folded and organized. Their bags were taken in from the doorway where Ian had left them and arranged in the corner of the room. Though he didn't want to, he sat up at the edge of the bed rubbing his eyes and yawning deeply. He looked down to see he was completely nude. He vaguely remembered falling asleep in the midst of some kind of foreplay which meant he must have been completely exhausted to fall asleep during such an event.

He stretched his tall, lanky limbs as heard several joints crack. He yawned again, scratching his back near his shoulder blade and wanted nothing more than a drink of water. He reached his hand behind him to touch Mickey, attempting to comfort him even though he was sleeping. He kept reaching... and reaching... 

No warm body met his hand.

He turned around immediately to find that there was indeed no Mickey in bed with him. The second he realized he was gone he was sent into a rabid panic. He shot up from the bed, charging into the living room and surveying his surroundings. He wasn't there.

"Mickey?!" He shouted. There was no response. Unless he was hiding in the closet he was nowhere to be found. Ian bolted back into the bedroom, throwing on his folded clothes so quickly his shirt was on backwards. He contemplated putting shoes on but he didn't have time. He ran out the door, and as soon as it slammed shut he realized he didn't have a door key. He raced down the hallway to the elevator but remembered they were on the fifth floor. He didn't want to wait for an elevator; instead he found the stair exit, flying down the stair well so fast his hair was flying upwards. Before he could even realize it or dodge a collision he bumped into a woman on the third flight.

"Hey!" He heard her shout, most likely looking over the railing down at him as he continued speeding down the flights.

"Sorry!" He shouted back.

He finally made it to the last set, zooming down it and barging through the door, almost falling on his face. He ended up in the main lobby close to where he checked in earlier. He looked around him frantically for any sign of his boyfriend. The chimes of the slot machines filled his ears as the lobby was mostly empty except for a man at the check in stand. He ran into the casino area feeling the coolness of the tiles on the lobby floor switch to flat carpeting on his feet. He ran around aimlessly looking for Mickey, searching every machine and table game in sight.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Ian said to himself as true fear started to set in. He was sweating now as he did when he was stressed or anxious. He wiped his forehead, squinting at the brightly lit chandeliers beaming in his eyes. He continued searching for him, this time scanning all the bars and restaurants hoping to find him somewhere. Anywhere.

 _Where the fuck is he?_ Ian thought to himself. Morbid, twisted images started entering his brain as the panic continued to escalate. 

After everything they had went through, after everything they had suffered together, this couldn't be the end. There was no way Ian could lead himself to believe it. Panic, fear and anxiety began morphing into regret, heartbreak and despair. Hopelessness was starting to form over him like a dark, dreary cloud. He still looked around at every person, every seat and every corner he could lay eyes on, hoping to catch a glimpse of jet black hair. He leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling as his eyes filled with tears. 

_I have to tell someone. The hotel. Maybe they saw him leave. Maybe someone took him. _His mind was racing. Calling the police was out of the question.__

_The car. I'll check the car. Maybe he ran to the store. But why wouldn't he tell me?_ Just when he was about to sink to the floor in defeat, brainstorming what to do next, he finally saw what he had hoped for. 

__In the very far corner of the room in a clutter of slot machines, Ian could make out a tiny dot of dark colored hair, and, whoever it was, appeared to be smoking a cigarette. He ran, practically sprinting and almost tripping over his long legs as he approached the person in sight. Sure enough, there he was, sipping a glass of whiskey and smoking, staring at the slot machine screen. Panic has died down instantly. Putting aside all circumstances, Ian couldn't help but notice how good he looked. He seemed to have cleaned up well wearing a blue flannel and dark jeans with his hair slicked back the way he liked to style it._ _

__"Jesus... Christ..." Ian panted, severely out of breath from running in circles but mostly from having a full-on anxiety attack._ _

__He watched Mickey look up, his whole face illuminating instantly as excitement filled his eyes._ _

__"Hey, sleepyface! Have a good nap?" He smiled and leaned his head up for a kiss but Ian saw his expression change as he studied him. "Woah, what the hell? Are you okay?" He asked, obviously concerned._ _

__"Are you okay?!" Ian shouted, still out of air. Mickey looked around and blinked a few times._ _

__He snatched the cigarette pack he saw in his lap. "Give me one of those." He said sternly, putting one to his lips and lighting it._ _

__"Jeez, snappy. For real, what's wrong with you?" He asked him again. Ian looked at him, adjusting his posture as relief flushed through him and all anxiety seemed to subside._ _

__"I woke up and you weren't there!" He said finally taking an unusually long drag from his Marlboro, filling his lungs with as much smoke as they could possibly hold._ _

__Mickey raised his eyebrows. "Sorry. You fell asleep mid blowie. That was a first." He chuckled. "You were sleeping pretty hard. Thought I'd come down and look around a little... Why are you sweating?" He asked._ _

__Ian shook his head, ignoring his question. "Next time you could leave a note or something. You scared the shit out of me!"_ _

__He reached over, putting his hand on his thigh and squeezing. He revealed that beautiful smile which Ian simply adored causing him to nearly melt into his seat. "Hey, calm down. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I was going to come right back up and lay next to you."_ _

__Ian smiled even though he didn't want to, but couldn't help it. Those words were enough to put him at ease. He took a deep breath, standing up and towering behind Mickey, wrapping his arms around his chest and laying a few kisses on his cheek._ _

__"I don't know what I would do if you were gone." He whispered in his ear, kissing him again. "Sorry, it just scared me." He smelled like a distillery._ _

__He felt Mickey reach his hand up to his face, stroking his fingers on his cheek. "Imagine how I felt at the U.S Mexican border about two years ago." He whispered. Ian could see a comedic smile erupt in the corner of his eye._ _

__"That's not fucking funny." He whispered in his ear again, swatting his cheek lightly as he broke away, plopping back down into the seat next to him. "Damn, I need a drink." He said desperately._ _

__"Yeah you do." Mickey agreed. All of the sudden he glanced over him and pointed directly above his head. "Oh look, perfect fucking timing."_ _

__Ian whipped his head around. Standing before him was a tall, pretty young woman in an alarmingly short cocktail dress. She was wearing platform heels, large silver hoops and a mess of blue and silver eyeshadow reaching to her brows. Her bleach blond hair fell over her large bust with highlights of purple in it. She chomped on pink bubble gum obnoxiously and was holding out a tray of drinks. Right above it was her gold plated nametag. _Tiffany_. Ian smiled at her as she studied him from the ground up, her brown eyes surveying every inch of him. He felt embarrassed as his cheeks became warm. __

____

____

__"What can I get you boys?" She winked, now staring over at Mickey who she was also eyeing intently._ _

__Ian cleared his throat. "I'll have what he's having." He said shyly. He looked over at Mickey who didn't take his eyes off the screen._ _

__"Another." He said shortly, holding up his glass to show her. She must have served him before. "Now." He ordered. Ian shoved his heel into his shin._ _

__"Ow!" He shouted._ _

__She looked back at Ian. "He's a feisty one ain't he?" She winked once more fetching his empty glass from his hand. "Coming right up!" She said enthusiastically as she turned away._ _

__Ian could clearly see her bright neon orange thong showing through her black dress. He noticed she was barely able to stay balanced in those heels, almost tripping over herself and potentially rolling an ankle. He had a sudden image of a newborn giraffe learning to walk. He turned back to Mickey who was polishing off his drink, looking up over his machine for a moment._ _

__"That chick won't leave me alone. She's given me four drinks since I've been down here. Before I even finish the next she's right fucking there trying to talk to me." He said, pushing more buttons on his machine._ _

__"That's good service." Ian shrugged. "Maybe you're tipping her too much?" He suggested._ _

__He shook his head. "Nah, I haven't tipped her at all."_ _

__"Mickey! You have to tip her!" He scolded._ _

__He looked at him and then back at the machine again. He did this a few times and it reminded Ian of when he was driving and trying to have a conversation with him. "That reminds me. I took a twenty from your jeans pocket and put it in the slot. Is that okay?"_ _

__He rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course that's okay. Why didn't you take more?" He asked honestly._ _

__His eyebrows furrowed. "It's your fucking money. I'm not going to just take it." He said, his tone serious._ _

__Ian pulled the cash wad out of his pocket, slipping out a hundred dollar bill and slamming it next to his button-pushing hand. "It's our money, babe."_ _

__Mickey stopped what he was doing took look over at him, his smile beaming. He was about to say something when he stopped, looking directly above him again. Ian turned around to find to find Tiffany standing there, a tray full of drinks just like she had before. She handed him one which he accepted gratefully but as she was handing one over to Mickey he wasn't appearing to be paying attention. Ian took it instead._ _

__"Thank you." He said sweetly. He turned to back Mickey to continue their conversation but could feel her still staring down at him._ _

__He watched her point her finger down to his glass, tapping the side with a long, magenta painted acrylic nail. "I put a little cherry in there for yall. You know, something sweet." Ian could now hear her thick, Southern drawl. He looked up at her, smiling again. "Where yall from? Yall don't look like you're from these parts." She giggled lightly. Ian was praying Mickey would answer her questions but he was dead silent._ _

__"Chicago." He replied. He felt Mickey nudge his foot with enough force so it actually hurt. He knew why, remembering it was nothing but careless to tell her where they were really from._ _

__"Oh wow, like two fish out of water!" She giggled again, letting out a little snort. She continued. "That's a long way from home! What brings yall to Oklahoma?" She blinked a few times and popped her gum under her tongue causing Ian to wince._ _

___Oklahoma?_ He thought. She was right, it was a long way from home._ _

__He started searching for words that made sense in his head. "Uhm, yeah. Visiting my grandma in.... Texas. She's sick. Cancer." He had no idea where these lies were coming from but they sounded believable and that was really all he cared about. He looked over at Mickey who had his eyes locked on him, expressing the message to not comment on the subject anymore. He watched him finish another glass of whiskey in a matter of seconds and since Ian didn't want to fall behind he downed his just as quick._ _

__"Oh no! That's just terrible. How sweet of yall to come down and see her." She was smiling widely, looking down at Ian with her huge twinkling eyes. He could see the reflection of the casino lights in her pupils. He sat there awkwardly with an uncomfortable smile on his face, not knowing how to respond. She noticed their empty glasses and scrambled quickly to collect them._ _

__"I'll bring yall some more!" She said cheerfully, shuffling away in her stilettos._ _

__He heard Mickey snicker. "Just keep up whatever it is you're doing and we'll get free drinks all fucking night." He winked._ _

__He continued pressing buttons on the machine for a few minutes until he slammed his fist on the keyboard, cussing loudly. "Fuck! I was up 80 for so long and lost it all. I hate these fucking games."_ _

__Ian put his hand over the 100 dollar bill, slowly sliding it towards him. Mickey started shaking his head. "No, no, no. I'm not putting 100 bucks in there." Before he could stop him, Ian was already inserting it into the machine, not taking his eyes off of him._ _

__"Come on." He said somberly. "It's fun! When do we ever get to do anything fun?"_ _

__Mickey looked up at him. "Never." He admitted._ _

__"Exactly. Never." Ian was started to feel the whiskey now as he grabbed another cigarette from the pack and lit up. "Never. We never got to go anywhere together. Never go to go on dates. Now we can. We have a lot of time to make up for."_ _

__Mickey's eyebrows raised and smile widened. "We have a lot of fucking to make up for." He winked again and Ian laughed._ _

__Even the sudden, random thought of fucking Mickey was enough to get him hard right then and there. He shifted in his seat a little._ _

__\---_ _

__An hour or two passed by as both Mickey and Ian sat in the same place, drinking and playing on their slot machines, talking amongst one another and laughing loudly at each other's stupid jokes. Tiffany must have come by dozens of times by now and they had already smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. Ian's exhaustion seemed to disappear completely as the whiskey was certainly perking him up. He was losing money by the minute but kept putting 20's in his machine. If he wasn't so inebriated he probably wouldn't be so careless but as of right now, all bets were off and he was letting loose. Every now and again he would glance over at Mickey's screen who seemed to be keeping his numbers up as they increased gradually. Ian knew he could probably leave him there for hours unattended if he let him._ _

__There was a sudden ring on his machine that Ian hadn't heard before. He looked over to see a sudden animation of fireworks and the reel of numbers go up._ _

__"Fuck yes!" He shouted, slapping Ian's thigh. "I just doubled my fucking money!"_ _

__Ian could care less about the money; seeing the joy live on Mickey's face was the real thrill._ _

__"Woah!" He said. "Damn, you're luck-" He was cut off. He looked up to find Tiffany who was now standing over Mickey. She popped out of quite literally nowhere, still chomping on her gum annoyingly. Ian could have sworn her dress had become even tighter revealing a significant amount of cleavage. She glanced down at Mickey's screen._ _

__"Wow! You're doing great! You might walk out of here a rich man!" She said excitedly looking at him with bright eyes. "What are yall doing after this?" She asked eagerly. Mickey once again barely acknowledged her existence, forcing Ian to engage._ _

__"Oh," He cleared his throat again. "Probably just going upstairs and heading to bed-"_ _

__"Yall can come back to my place if you want! We can watch movies! I got all the American Pies and a bottle of Jose Quervo." She looked at them both anxiously, clearly desperate for an answer. Before Ian could reply she leaned down so her oversized chest was perfect level with Mickey's eyes. "We can snuggle up on the couch. I can sit in the middle... Give yall a back massage... The winning don't have to stop here." She said, her tone low and seductive._ _

__Ian's whiskey went down the wrong pipe as he saw her lick her top lip, then bite her bottom one trying very hard to be attractive. He began coughing uncontrollably. It was now that Mickey was paying attention, his eyes locked on her with a disturbed expression on his face. Ian finally got ahold of himself._ _

__"Yeah, we’re going to have to pass on that." He said as he leaned away from her cleavage. The sarcasm in his tone was sharp. "You know what you can do though? You can get me another drink, how about that?" He handed her his glass. Ian gave him another hard kick in the shin. "Fuck! Would you quit doing that?!" He shouted at him._ _

__Ian felt sorry for Tiffany after Mickey's rude comments, but she didn't seem to be at all discouraged. She still had an overly joyous smile on her face and accepted the empty glass as if it were a personal gift. She hurried away._ _

__As soon as she was out of sight Ian smacked his arm firmly. "Don't be a dick!"_ _

__Mickey scowled. "What? She thinks she's going to score tonight. Like we're going to run a fucking train on her or some shit. Tell her you like cock. My cock."_ _

__Ian huffed loudly. "I'm not telling her I like cock you weirdo. She's a nice girl, she doesn't know any better."_ _

__After a few moments, Tiffany was back, this time talking to Ian where she knew she could get some sort of acknowledgement. She sat next to him for what felt like hours telling him her life story but he only picked up on a few key parts. He learned that she became pregnant at 15, again at 18 and that her baby's dad was in prison. She also mentioned she could pay the babysitter to keep her kids longer so the three of them could have a rather lustful night. He felt more uncomfortable than ever, and the more whiskey he consumed the more difficult it was to be passive. He had just about reached his limit of patience when Mickey darted up from his seat, clapping loudly and screaming as his machine broke out in a ringing melody. Ian saw the numbers start flipping up dramatically._ _

__"WOOOOOOO! FIVE GRAND BABY!" Mickey yelled followed by more applauding._ _

__"Oh my word!" Tiffany squealed, jumping up and down dramatically._ _

__Ian was shocked as he stared at the machine, feeling his own jaw drop as the credits kept raising._ _

__"You just won five grand?!" Ian shouted, still staring in astonishment. "Holy fucking shit..." He whispered as he broke out in a smile._ _

__"Fuck yes I did!" Mickey was staring in awe, his hands on his hips as the numbers continued to climb. He looked adorable, standing there and nodding his head as he was declared a winner._ _

__Maybe dealing with horny Tiffany was worth it after all._ _

__\---_ _

__Ian and Mickey made their way to the cashier where he collected his cash. It didn't take long for the dealer to count his money back to him, totaling out to $5,282.53. He still couldn't believe Mickey had won that much money but it only made their future more secure. He was elated and didn't stop smiling, even up until he accepted the wad of cash and put it in his pocket, though it barely fit. At this point in the night Ian was extremely drunk and ready to take their winnings upstairs for an ongoing celebration._ _

__Unfortunately, Tiffany was still following them, stuck on the back of their necks like a leech they couldn't rip off. She still didn't seem to get the point as she walked with them to the elevator holding her heels in her hand with her purse over her shoulder. Ian was too drunk to tell for sure, but he had reason to believe Tiffany might have been downing some shots herself. Some of her blue makeup smeared and her eyes were drooping._ _

__"Oh, are we going up to your room?! That sounds nice. I can make yall some drinks up there. I got party favors." She bit her lip again pulling out two latex condoms from the outside pocket of her purse, showing them off proudly._ _

__Ian began laughing hysterically as he couldn't hold it back any longer. He knew Mickey was going to spell it out for her._ _

__"Okay, look, come on. Put that shit away." He took the condoms from her hand and shoved them back in her purse pocket. "I hate to burst your bubble princess, but we're gay. Lovers. Together. So unless you want to make your way up to our room to watch him rail me in the ass for the next hour, that's about all the action you're gonna get from us tonight."_ _

__At that very moment the elevator doors opened. Ian felt his waist being pulled inside before he could say anything. The doors began closing and Ian waved to Tiffany as she looked completely heartbroken._ _

__"I'm really sorry! You're really nice! Maybe we can be friends-" The doors shut and before Ian could process what was happening he was being shoved in the wall with a great, driving force. Mickey had his fingers gripping the neck of his shirt, pulling his face into his. Before their lips even touched Mickey's tongue was already meeting his. The warmness of him caused his busy, open mouth to form into a smile and he could feel his hand start to slide into his pants. Mickey stepped forward causing Ian to jump in pain as he accidentally stepped on his toes._ _

__He looked down. "You don't have shoes on." He stated, now breaking out in laughter._ _

__Ian rolled his eyes, blushing in embarrassment. "I'm aware of this."_ _

__Not only was he shoeless but he was standing in the corner of the elevator with Mickey's hand cupped over his raging boner._ _

__He continued kissing him forcefully forming his whole mouth around his lips. He had always been an extremely skilled kisser. As he started to pull away he bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he backed up. Ian followed suit, not letting him go and thrusting his waist into his, feeling the hardness of him as they both rubbed against each other._ _

__"Fuck." Ian whispered between breaks in their lip locking. He could feel Mickey's satisfied smile spread across his face as he kissed him. He ran his hands over his hips, gripping his waist tightly and pulling him towards him again. As the elevator doors finally opened Mickey broke free, bolting out the door and into the hallway. Ian chased after him, running so fast he was able to catch up to him easily, slapping his ass._ _

__"Ow, fuck!" He screeched, laughing loudly and gripping his left butt cheek. As they approached their room door Ian realized he didn't have his door key since he had left so abruptly hours earlier. Thankfully Mickey had his and was already inserting it into the door as Ian was inserting his hands into his pants. They got inside, stumbling sloppily as they made their way to the bedroom, hopefully picking up where the left of earlier. Ian was simply giddy. He stood there for a moment, breathing heavy and not wasting any time on getting undressed. He was about to assume their position but Mickey stood there, unbuckling his belt. The sound of the metal clinking together was making Ian even harder. He pulled his pants down, but stood there still, staring him down._ _

__Ian looked in his eyes which almost took his breath away. There was a striking fire burning in his icy blues. One that was raging and telling Ian he was ready to pounce. It was daunting but mesmerizing._ _

__"Get on the bed." Mickey said suddenly. Ian blinked a few times. "Go." He ordered._ _

__The passion in his eyes was still putting him in a trance but he obeyed Mickey's directions. He knew what was about to go down._ _

__\---_ _

__**Mickey's perspective.** _ _

__Mickey watched Ian climb up on the bed, arching his back out and putting his ass up so he could enter easily. He ran his fingertips over Ian's back and his thighs. He held the base of his cock around his fingers as he spread Ian apart, quickly learning forward and spitting on him for lubrication. He forced himself inside of him slowly but fast enough to already feel a wave of pleasure circulate through him. He moaned almost instantly as Ian did also. He finally gripped the fold between his ass and hips, tucking his fingers in and getting a good hold before building up some speed. He felt awkward at first as this was the first time they had experienced changing positions but Ian seemed to be loving it as he was reaching behind him, placing his grip around Mickey's thighs, holding on tightly._ _

__Ian began moaning louder which enhanced his confidence. He humped faster, thrusting inside of him as he bounced his hips in a perfect sync. Mickey was in a moment of ecstasy as he leaned his head back, his eyes rolling to the back of his brain._ _

__"Holy fuck." He said so loudly he was practically yelling. He looked back down, removing his hand briefly to wipe beads of built up sweat on his forehead. It was a workout but worth every straining second. He placed his hands on Ian's shoulders, grabbing them so he could shove his cock even further into him. Ian sat up a bit, propping himself on his elbows and turning his head so Mickey could see his face. His mouth was open, his eyes squinted as he took every pump of his cock into him._ _

__"Does that feel good? Huh? You like when daddy fucks you?" Mickey was saying things he had never said in the past, but with this sudden switch up of control he felt an overwhelming sense of domination and power. The whiskey was also filling him with colorful language._ _

__"Yeah." Ian said, still squinting as if he was in pain but Mickey knew he was enjoying it just as much as he was._ _

__"What? I can't hear you." Mickey teased, pumping even hard than before. His hips banging against Ian's ass were causing a muffled but profound clapping sound._ _

__"It feels so fucking good. Fuck me harder." Ian ordered, arching his back further down towards the bed and making his hips raise in pleasure, opening himself for Mickey to keep penetrating. As he did this, Mickey saw one of his hands slide across the sheets and tuck between his legs. The vibrating impact of Ian pleasing himself began._ _

__"Oh yeah? You're gonna jerk yourself off?" He asked as the this was both incredibly sexy and amusing to him._ _

__"Oh fuck yeah, baby. It feels so good." Ian managed to get his words out before they firmed into lengthy, harmonic moans. Mickey knew at this rate they both weren't going to last much longer. As he could feel Ian start to pick up speed, he matched him rhythmically. The tightness of him was clenching around his hard cock and he could feel the load inside him preparing to burst. It was something he had never quite felt before and it was absolutely exhilarating. Ian's moaning was transforming into primal grunts._ _

__"Keep stroking that cock." He said as he kept increasing his pace. "You want me to come in you?"_ _

__He felt Ian scoot closer onto him, sliding down him and clenching some more. "Yeah, I want you to come in my ass." He pleaded._ _

__Mickey found this obnoxiously hot and was so turned on it seemed every sense in his body had gone numb. There was a few more solid pumps before it was finally time._ _

__"Are you ready?" He asked, but he wasn't going to wait for him to answer. "Oh shit baby, here it comes." He took a deep breath as his cock started throbbing rapidly inside of him._ _

__"I'm coming." He heard Ian say below him and watched as his back muscles flexed in squirmed in all sorts of ways._ _

__Suddenly, Mickey was titling his head back again as he exploded inside of Ian, a relieving and long groan releasing from him. It was so loud and projected he could barely hear Ian but could still make out his sounds of release. He immediately collapsed on Ian's back, a wave of utter exhaustion flowing through him. They both laid there for a few moments, panting heavily and sweating like animals. Mickey finally found the will to roll over on to his back. He wiped some more sweat off, still out of breath but turning towards Ian to stare into his eyes._ _

__"How was that?" He asked, almost laughing._ _

__"That was..." Ian paused, sighing and closing his eyes looking more than satisfied. "Let's just say I'm laying in a pile of the biggest cum shot ever."_ _

__Mickey combusted with laughter._ _

__After cleaning up the two finally crawled in bed together. Though Mickey was still wide awake since he had slept earlier, he still slid comfortably into his favorite spot within Ian's arms, clicking into place perfectly like a puzzle piece. He felt Ian kiss the back of his neck, squeezing him tighter into his chest close enough to hear and feel his heart beat. It was here that Mickey felt safe, secure and unbelievably content. If he had it his way, he would never move. Tonight was nothing short of a beautiful experience and it was definitely one for the books._ _

__He could already feel his heavy breathing in his ear as he slowly fell assleep._ _

__Mickey picked up his hand which was already interlocked with his and kissed it gently._ _

__"Sweet dreams." He whispered._ _

__Mickey's eyes became heavy and he drifted off peacefully, happy dreams of him and his lover filling his head._ _


	24. A Peaceful Place.

  


**Mickey's perspective.**

Mickey had woken early the next morning, opening the curtains so the Southern sun could shine directly in the room. As soon as the sunlight hit Ian he groaned, turning over to the other side of the bed to hide his face. He laughed quietly to himself. He was clearly hungover but thankfully, Mickey woke up refreshed and energized, ready to seize the day. He spent some time gathering their things and neatly stuffing them in their bags, preparing to check out and leave. He came across Ian's medicine bag, taking out his daily dose of medication and placing it on the nightstand next to a bottle of water he found in kitchen.

He was already dressed in a decently clean outfit. His teeth were brushed, his hair gelled, and he had applied cologne heavily. He was especially perky this morning and could even go for a cup of coffee, something he hadn't enjoyed in too long. 

It was 10:30 and he assumed check out was at 11:00. He crawled on the bed next to Ian, rubbing his back gently. He watched him shift comfortably, sighing into the pillow.

"Hey sleeping beauty." He whispered in his ear, kissing his warm freckled cheek. "You have to get up."

His eyebrows scrunched as he peaked one eye up at him. He groaned again, throwing his hand on Mickey's thigh.

"Can you just come back in bed?" He whined, pulling the sheets over his nude body. "And shut the damn curtains."

Mickey smiled, shaking his head. "No, babe. We have to check out soon and then we got a shit ton more driving to do." He absolutely dreaded being in the car for another day or so. He looked down at him, still rubbing his back, trying to get him motivated. He began removing the bed sheets, running his fingers through his hair and kissing him again.

"Come on. Up and fucking at 'em." He said, smacking his ass. Ian finally began moving, sitting up to the edge of the bed and looking like a complete wreck. He was squinting his eyes, blocking the sun from hitting his face. He groaned again, scratching him stomach and attempting to stand up.

"Oh my god! My fucking head!" He whaled, stumbling as he finally got on his feet.

"Yeah we over did it on the drinks last night." Mickey said, collecting some of the bags and hoisting them over his shoulder. He smiled as he had a quick image of him plowing Ian from behind for the first time. He pointed to the night stand. "Take your pills." He demanded.

"Great." Ian said, picking a few pills up, looking like he was struggling. "Any pain killers?" He asked, probably joking but sounded serious.

"Ha!" Mickey said theatrically. "Don't I wish. We'll get you some aspirin and you'll be right as fucking rain."

Ian mumbled something under his breath but he couldn't make it out. Mickey handed him a pair of clean jeans and a grey shirt. 

"Get dressed." He demanded again. Ian was still squinting as he belched loudly, slipping into his jeans so slow that Mickey actually stood there and waited for him to finish. They made their way to the suite door, ready to exit when Mickey stopped himself. He walked over to the refrigerated liquor cabinet pulling out a bottle of Skye vodka. He took a huge pull, offering some to Ian generously.

As soon as he laid eyes on it he grabbed onto the counter, clenching his stomach, gagging and dry heaving as he shook his head fiercely.

"You're fucking crazy. Get that shit away from me!" He yelled, running over the sink and hurling.

"Sorry, babe." He said apologetically as he placed the bottle back in place. "Hair of the dog, you know?" He winked, smacking his ass lightly. "Come on, we'll get you settled in the car, sicky. Let's go." 

He walked towards the door as Ian dragged his feet behind him. Just before opening the door, something white colored caught his eye. He looked down to see a piece of notebook paper folded up as if it was slipped under the door. He picked it up, looking at Ian suspiciously, unfolding it and reading the content which was written with pink ink.

_Hey boys. I hope yall had a good night. I know yall are gay and what not, but we can still be friends. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to give me a call!_

_Love,  
Tiffany._

There was a phone number scribbled at the bottom of the paper. Every 'i' was dotted with a heart and it smelled of sweet cheap perfume. 

"You've got to fucking kidding me." He whispered to himself as he rolled his eyes, handing the note to Ian. He watched him read over the note, smiling and tucking it into his pocket. Mickey had his hand over the door handle, staring him down before he opened it.

"What?" Ian said defensively realizing he had his eyes on him. "There's nothing wrong with friends."

"Kind of fucking creepy if you ask me." He opened the door letting Ian go first. Before walking out he met his eyes. They were lined with dark circles. 

"I miss Mandy." He said finally, his eyes glossy.

Those words made Mickey's stomach sink. He missed his sister also, and he knew how close they were. They didn't have any friends and the opportunity to make new ones was probably important to him.

"I know." He said, placing his hand on his back as he escorted him out the door.

Ian was yawning again, smelling of puke and stale alcohol. His hair was an orange colored ratted mop on his head and he had put his shirt on backwards.

It was going to be a long day.

\---

Mickey had been driving for nearly four hours now and they had just barely hit Dallas. It was about ten degrees hotter than it had been and Oklahoma and he would be dying of heat exhaustion if it wasn't for the cold drinks they had bought a few miles back. They stopped to get some food at a dive-in breakfast diner. Mickey had been totally famished, ordering a giant Colorado omelet, hash browns, scrambled eggs and a few slices toast. He finished every last bite, washing it down with two bloody Mary's. Ian on the other hand had ordered a small stack of pancakes and a glass of orange juice. He only finished a few bites before he was dry heaving and running to the bathroom. Mickey didn't recall a time he had ever seen him so hungover from a night of binge drinking. Before they hit the road again, they made a stop at another corner store where Mickey ran in and got Ian some Advil, ginger ale and a few other beverages to hold them over. After they were settled in the car again Ian seemed to fall asleep almost immediately, leaning his head on the seat with his mouth hung open. It looked extremely uncomfortable but he was snoring soundly, a trail of drool seeping from the corner of his mouth. Though he was in another far off world and unaware of his surroundings, Mickey still had his hand on his thigh, locked in place where it stayed for many hours.

The clock was just now hitting 5:00 and the highway was flooded with rush hour traffic. He wasn't aware that such a deserted area could be so populated. If Ian were driving he would probably have no issue sitting in traffic, but Mickey wasn't as patient. Though he was eager to arrive at their destination and get across the border, he saw nothing wrong with making a few stops on the way. Like they had discussed the night before, they never had the opportunity to do anything fun with each other, and he wanted to make it all count. He was also due for an ice cold beer.

He had not a clue where he was going but he knew if he got off on an exit it would most likely lead him somewhere satisfactory. He knew they were just outside of Dallas, driving further South until buildings and civilization seemed to fade behind them. He looked over as movement caught his eye, finding Ian stretching and glancing out the window. He wiped a thick string of drool of his face for him. 

"Hey, babe." He said cheerfully giving his upper thigh a squeeze.

Ian yawned for the millionth time but he looked better than he did when he rolled out of the hotel bed earlier that morning. Mickey assumed he would ask for their location but instead was pleasantly surprised when he felt the softness of Ian's hand caress his neck, gripping him and pulling closer to kiss his cheek. He smiled.

"Where are we going?" He asked, his voice still groggy.

"Thought a beer sounded nice." He said simply.

Ian laughed. "I should've known."

He kept driving further into suburban neighborhoods and approaching the country. Right before they entered a small one street town there was a poorly lit sign on their right. They both turned their heads to read it before it passed.

_Welcome to Red Oaks!  
A peaceful place._

Mickey had barely even drove 20 feet when he saw a sign that caught his eye. Purple, pink and yellow signs blinked violently. The place was mostly built with red brick, a few cracks splitting up the pavement which was littered in cigarette butts. The front window appeared to be cracked, an area in the corner where it looked like a tennis ball was launched through it. The sign had a few gaps where there were missing letters but Mickey seemed to make it out.

"The Aching Armadillo." He said aloud. He was pleased seeing the neon light-up signs of Budweiser and Coors Light. He was pulling into an available spot, looking over at Ian who had a weary expression.

"Hey," Mickey said. "Not every place we have a drink is going to be the damn Cherokee Resort and Casino." 

He parked the car, unhooking the wires and stepping out. He made sure he grabbed their last pack of cigarettes resting in the center console. He took off his jacket, leaving it in the car since it was still scorching outside. They walked up to the large, steel door, Ian pulling it open and letting him enter first while flashing him a smile. Once they entered he took a look around, studying the inside of the bar.

Mickey leaned into Ian's ear, still glancing around hesitantly. "Fuck, the outside looked like the Taj Mahal."

Ian laughed. "A beer is a beer is a beer." He shrugged.

The place was covered in dust on every possible surface and the horrendous burgundy carpet was tearing in several areas, scattered with stains. The lighting fixtures, the two that there were, had thick cob webs coming down from the ceiling all the way to the lightbulbs. Aside from the charming décor, there was a strong stench of stale beer and mildew. Slow, melodic blues played in the background and there was a tiny old TV broadcasting a local news network. Though the bar was mostly empty, a few more people came in behind them. They walked up to a couple of bar stools where they sat and waited for the bartender, an older, dirty man to take their drink order. He was about as inviting as the environment, not greeting them and staring them down as they ordered, sighing deeply as if it was a complete inconvenience to him. 

"I'm going need to see some I.D." He said, standing up straight and looking at them suspiciously. Both him and Ian pulled out their wallets, removing their I.Ds and handing them over. He nearly snatched them out of their hands, staring down at the tiny pictures and back up at them again several times. Mickey noticed Ian had given him his real I.D. After a few moments he huffed, turning towards the liquor collection, shuffling to it as if he had trouble walking. After several moments he came back with two small shots of whiskey. Mickey gave him a conspicuous look before shooting the liquid down his throat.

"You must be feeling better." He smirked, watching as Ian downed a whole glass of cold beer in a matter of seconds. 

He belched, slightly out of breath. "Just don’t ask me to drink any whiskey. Not happening." He stated, shaking his head in refusal.

Mickey laughed. "Oh you're taking whiskey shots with me." He insisted, slapping his thigh loudly. Before he gave Ian a chance to argue, he looked at the bartender who was very slowly wiping an area of the tabletop, his staring gaze already burned on them. 

"Two shots of Jack." He said, holding two fingers up. 

Once again the grumpy bartender returned with more shots, placing on the table and not saying a single word.

Ian started pushing the shot glass towards Mickey, but he pushed it back. "Come on, Mick. I'm going to yack all over the bar." He begged.

"You're a Gallagher. A little whiskey ain't shit." He picked up the glass, handing it to him. "This is our vacation. Let's get wasted." He smiled. Mickey had been thinking a lot about what Ian had said, that they never had the chance to go out, just the two of them. It was his turn to take Ian out for a change.

He could tell he was trying to hide it but like usual that happy, flirtatious smile broke out on his face. "Fine!" He said as he downed the shot. Once he swallowed he winced harshly, sticking his tongue out and shaking his head in agony. Mickey burst into laughter, giving his thigh another slap. 

He already ordered more shots before Ian's glass hat hit the table. They sat together, drinking quaintly and enjoying each other's company before they had to set back out on their journey. 

They must have sat there for a few hours at least. After all, the beer was cold, the night was young and life was good, for the moment. 

Mickey could tell Ian was getting more intoxicated as his cheeks were a bright, rosy pink and his eyes hung a little lower. He was starting to be quite animated, talking more about Mexico and what they should do first. Mickey loved nothing more than to sit and watch him talk, admiring everything he saw from the way his mouth moved to the way he his eyes widened with enthusiasm as he spoke of something exciting. As the liquor kept going down with ease, Ian was getting more affectionate, grabbing his leg and leaning in to plant small kisses all over his face. He whispered something about driving off somewhere after their bar visit and doing things with his mouth that made Mickey very excited.

Every so often Mickey would look up to get the bartenders attention and order more shots. He noticed every time him and Ian touched each other, he was already staring at them with a look of apparent disgust. Mickey knew what was happening and he didn’t care. In fact, this was only fueling him to touch Ian even more, scooting closer to his bar stool and intertwining his hands with his. 

"I don't think our friend back there likes us very much." Ian whispered in his ear, giving a small head tilt behind him. 

Mickey scowled, whispering back in Ian's. "I don't give a fuck. Let him fucking say something." He shot his eyes at the bartender flashing him an intimidating expression.

"Easy there, tiger." Ian chuckled, patting his shoulder. "I'm used to that kind of shit. You know, it's going to happen everywhere, no matter where we are." Ian looked around. "Especially in country shitholes like this."

Mickey shrugged, pulling the cigarette pack out of his pocket and taking two out. "I don't give a shit, if anyone has a fucking problem they can say it to my face." He stuck one in Ian's mouth.

"Yeah but," Ian began, stepping off the barstool and talking with the cigarette still between his lips. "You can't sweat that shit. You can't let it get to you. Yeah, who fucking cares what people think but you can't try to fight everyone-" Ian stumbled slightly mid-rant.

Mickey laughed, grabbing a hold of his arm to keep him stable. "Woah there, drunky." 

Ian was getting preachy and also very drunk which was absolutely adorable to watch. They walked to the door together, Mickey being sure to have a hold on him to keep him from stumbling. When they got outside, the heat and humidity hit him like a freight train.

Ian stood next to him, fanning his shirt in an attempt to cool off. "Jesus it's fucking hot." 

Mickey pulled out a lighter, lighting Ian's cigarette first before his own. "Your white ass is going to fry in Mexico." He snickered, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Ian shrugged him off before taking a large drag followed by a huge cloud of smoke. "I'll be just fine." He said, unconcerned.

They stood for a few moments, the sound of a crickets immersed them as Mickey finally seemed to notice it was dark out. He looked up to gaze at the moon which appeared to full, the brightness shining down on them. He glanced over at Ian who was also staring into the big white orb, the light illuminating him perfectly.

"I never thought I would be here." He said finally, not removing his gaze while hitting his cigarette slowly.

"Where?" Mickey said almost defensively, pressing for an answer.

Ian spoke quickly. "You know, here. With you. I wasn't sure if I'd ever see you again." His eyes met his, the sharp green spheres flooding in a small pool of tears. The alcohol was definitely hitting him as emotions were starting to surface.

Mickey immediately walked towards him, grabbing his face before any tears could escape his eyes. "Hey, come on. Hey."

He could see Ian was avoiding his stare. He pulled his chin to center, forcing him to look directly at him.

"I just feel like I fucked up so bad..." Ian's voice trailed off as he was starting to sob but Mickey didn't give up.

"Ian, hey. Enough. Come on. Let's not get all fucking sad, okay? We've come this far. Let's try and have a good night." Mickey's comforting seemed to be working as Ian nodded in agreement, wiping some tears before they fell down his pink cheeks.

Mickey didn't move, keeping close to him and rubbing his back as he let him collect himself. 

"What are we going to do for work down there?" Ian asked finally, still sniffling.

Mickey thought about his question and hesitated as he wasn't sure what to say. The things he was doing for work the last time he was in Mexico were things he didn't want Ian to ever be exposed to. Before he could respond, Ian was answering himself.

"What about like, opening a club or something?" He suggested.

Mickey pondered. "What, like a gay club? Like where you blew all those pedo queens?" He snapped.

Ian sighed. "Yeah a gay club, but not like that. We could manage it. You know, the two of us." 

He looked over him as he was observing the sky again.

Mickey didn't know if that was ever an option, but it didn't sound terrible. "I don't know. That's a lot of fucking work..." He trailed off, his mind racing with scenarios but promising possibilities. 

"Do they have gay clubs in Mexico?" Ian asked curiously.

He nodded, taking one last puff of his Marb before tossing it on the ground. "Yeah, a few. More than a few." He said quietly. He looked up to see Ian's eyes on him.

"Oh so you've been to some?" He asked accusingly, his tone changing drastically as he crossed his arms.

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Don't fucking start." 

He walked towards the door, this time pulling it open to let Ian enter first. The batstools were empty when they had left them, but next to where Ian had been sitting was a tall, skinny man sipping from a glass of brown liquor, compete with a cowboy hat and boots to match. He was wearing blue high rise jeans with a brown belt, his shirt tucked in them neatly. He had a large lump in his bottom lip which looked like a Mickey assumed was a ball of chewing tobacco. Ian seemed to not even notice his presence as he sat back on the stool sloppily, grabbing the bar top for balance and twisting his body forward. Mickey followed, taking his seat and being sure to get the bartenders attention once again. This time he growled to himself before fetching their shots and slamming them on the table. Mickey was close to saying something but decided against it, knowing it was in his best interest to just ignore his attitude.

They look a few more shots when Ian's attention seemed to fall away from Mickey's as he turned towards the man next to him, apologizing for accidentally elbowing his arm as he continued his theatrical ramble. The man smiled at him, saying something Mickey couldn't hear over the blues music. 

"So where you from?" The man asked suddenly, turning to Ian for an answer. Mickey heard him loud and clear. "Yall don't look like Texas folk."

Mickey didn't like the vibe he was getting from any of the people in the bar. He didn't want to answer much less acknowledge the man and his friendly questions. Ian seemed to look anxious, not wanting to respond to the guy but doing it anyway. This made him instantly aggravated, shooting his shots by himself and not saying a word.

"Sorry." Ian said apologetically, turning back towards Mickey and placing his hand on his leg. 

"No, sorry for interrupting." Mickey said facetiously.

"Oh shut up." Ian said, placing his arm over his back.

Mickey stood up as he felt tremendous pressure on his bladder. "I got to take a leak." He said. He looked over at the man who seemed to be staring at Ian in a way that made him feel threatened and uneasy. He made sure to grab Ian's face, pulling him in for a passionate kiss, breaking away and making a point to stare at the man. He didn't have to look up to know the bartender was probably standing there wide eyed and mortified.

Ian giggled as his cheeks turned another ten shades of pink.

Mickey walked to the bathroom realizing how drunk but managed to stay balanced. He stepped in, the strong aroma of urine hitting his nostrils almost causing him to gag. The bathroom was atrocious, globs or wet toilet paper scattered everywhere and stains all over the walls. He quickly did his business, trying to get out as soon as possible.

Though the liquor was clouding his head, he had an odd, unavoidable feeling that he couldn't seem to shake. The man sitting next to Ian was a sight he had seen before. Cowboys coming down to Mexico from Texas, leaving their wives for 'work' and looking to score cheap with gay men. Though they weren't close to the border yet, it was all too familiar to him. He speed walked out of the bathroom, returning to his seat when he stopped in his tracks. This man was now standing up, leaning against the bar top, facing Ian and still chatting with him. Ian was in the same place, looking down at his glass solemnly, looking awkward and annoyed. As Mickey approached, he caught the tail end of the conversation. 

"I've been rodeoing for about three years..." His sentence faded as he seemed to notice Mickey was standing there.

"Oh that's really fucking interesting." He said sarcastically, placing one hand on his chin pretending to be intrigued. "Please, tell me more." He saw Ian laugh to himself, staring up at the T.V.

The man gave Mickey a bright smile, shrugging his shoulders and disregarding him. He looked back down to Ian. "Why don't you let me buy you a drink there, carrot top?" He leaned in closer almost touching him. 

He felt his blood boiling under his skin as his heart was throbbing with anger. Ian was about to respond but he cut him off before he could get a word in.

"You're not buying him a motherfucking thing, and you're not getting your dick wet tonight either so why don't you keep is pushing cowboy." He looked him up and down before he stepped out of the way. "After you." He said firmly. Mickey could feel this intense anger rising as hotness surged through every vein in his body.

The man shook his head, smirking to himself, his cowboy hat shifting side to side, still completely ignoring Mickey. "Come on red, what do you say we get out of here?" He put an arm around Ian when he started to stand up, shrugging him off. 

Once he saw his hand hit Ian's back, Mickey was seeing red now and couldn't hold back any longer. He bolted towards him grabbing the collar of his shirt and leaving about two inches of space between their faces. He spoke through gritted teeth. "You touch him again I'm gonna knock every last chew soaked tooth out your fucking redneck head." He shoved him back into the bar top, glasses crashing across it.

"Fuck, Mickey!" He heard Ian shout as he attempted to pull him back. As the man came charging at him, extending his fist back to throw a punch, Ian shot up, coming between them and slamming him onto the ground. 

"Hey! You get the hell off him!" The bartender yelled, leaning over the bar top. "That's it, I'm calling the police!"

Mickey watched as Ian was straddling the man, hitting him a few times in the face. He ripped him off of him. "LET'S GO!" He screamed. "Let's go! He's calling the fucking cops!"

Ian was still trying to get in a few hits but followed Mickey, scrambling off the ground and running to the door. They didn't waste any time, jumping in the car as Mickey hurried to connect the wires, getting it started and smashing out of the parking spot.

"FUCK YOU!" Mickey yelled as he watched the cowboy run out of the bar and say some sort of slander before they drove off, soon passing the Welcome sign they hit on the way there. He stepped on the gas, increasing speed and making his way back to the highway where they came from.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Ian shouted, holding his heart as if he was having a stroke.

Mickey was focused on the road, trying to ignore him.

"You're a lose fucking cannon Mickey, you know that?!" Ian continued breathing heavily, the sent of liquor on his breath. "You don't have to try and fight anyone who looks at you the wrong way!"

He looked at him. "Are you fucking serious? Maybe if you had the balls to tell people to fuck off we wouldn't have to escape the fucking bar."

Ian didn't say anything after that, and neither did he. They continued looking out the window, driving in silence as the lights of the highway passed them. Mickey knew he needed better control of himself but he wasn't in the mood to admit it.

After consuming so much alcohol, driving was becoming a harder task than usual. Mickey was nodding off at the wheel periodically, trying his best to stay awake.

"Just let me drive." Ian said after the fourth time.

"No." Mickey refused. He knew he was being stubborn but couldn't help it.

All of the sudden there was a loud popping noise from outside the car. Before realized what was happening they were veering off into the side of the highway. There was now an earsplitting scraping sound like metal being dragged across the cement.

"What the fuck?" Mickey said in panic looking at the dashboard to see if anything was wrong. 

He pulled over to the shoulder, stepping out of the car and analyzing the damage.

"Oh my god, you got to be fucking joking!" He shouted as he observed the sight before him. 

The whole entire drivers-side tire had blew.


	25. The Finish Line.

  
**Ian's perspective.**

Ian leaned his head on the headrest of the idle car in complete defeat. Not only did they have a blown tire on their stolen car but they were also fleeing criminals making their way to Mexico to escape the law and didn’t know anyone in over a 600 mile radius. He watched as Mickey paced around in circles, his lips tightened and his face beet red stopping to kick the side of the car in anger every so often. His hands stayed pressed on his hips, shaking his head in disgust every time his eyes fell on the flat tire. This was the worst thing that could possibly go wrong besides losing their passports. Before Ian had resulted to sitting uselessly in the passenger seat he tried to calm Mickey down but it was no use; he blatantly ignored him still doing circles around the car, swearing under his breath. He must have watched Mickey smoke at least four cigarettes in the last few minutes, huffing them down in a stressed frenzy.

Ian felt somewhat helpless as he was attempting to weigh out their options, what little they had. Hitch-hiking was out of the question as it would be just their luck to catch a ride with the wrong person, a truck driver from Chicago who was a frequent listener of ABC7. Besides, even if they did find someone who didn’t recognize them, no one was casually on their way to Mexico and would be willing to give two complete strangers a ride to the border. Though their pockets were full of money, offering someone a small fee to take them there seemed plausible but also just as risky. Now would be a great time to call Lip and Mandy for help but waiting over ten hours for them to make the drive to where they were was simply unrealistic. Stealing another car also seemed like a great plan but the next exit wasn't even in sight and walking on the side of the interstate with packed bags on their bags looked nothing but suspicious, especially this late at night. Who knew how far their crime news had spread? There was no telling if and when they would be identified and if they were stopped at any point, they would surely be hauled to jail, then to prison for….

Life.

Ian was coming to the realization that they were stuck until they figured something out, and the more they waited on the side of the road, the more their chances of being recognized increased.

How could they have come this far for nothing?

He was starting to become slightly anxious, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he began to sweat and overthink bad outcomes. He went opened the dashboard looking desperately for a cigarette, the only thing that would most likely keep his nerves at bay. He couldn’t find any as he searched every cup holder and compartment looking for a red pack. He sighed as he finally remembered Mickey was the last one to have them when he lit his cigarette for him at the bar. Had it really been that long since he had one? He opened the door, getting out of the car and practically stomping towards Mickey in aggravation. They hadn’t said much of anything nice to each other since their fleeing escape from The Aching Armadillo earlier that night and wasn’t thrilled about having to speak to him but still made his way around the side of the car where he saw him leaning down on one knee, staring at the flat tire, head shaking in shame.

“Can I get a cigarette?” Ian said loudly to be heard over the passing cars on the highway.

He didn’t even look at him as he continued shaking his head. “No more left.” He shrugged, his tone surprisingly calm.

Ian wasn’t so relaxed. “What? What the fuck?” He stuck his arms out looking around as if he was lost. “Thanks for saving me one!” He exclaimed. 

“Thanks for telling Brokeback mountain to fuck off.” He said sharply, his sarcasm automatically triggering Ian's anger.

“Excuse me?” He asked, stepping closer and looking down at him to explain himself. Instead he stood up, turning towards Ian and placing his hands on his hips as if he was waiting for him to say more. He was covered in black grease with some smearing spots on his upper left cheek. Ian thought this was extremely attractive but his mind was too distracted with his comment to think otherwise. His face was barely visible in the dark until headlights from the passing cars hit him revealing an irritated expression.

“You need to grow some fucking balls, Ian.” He said abruptly sounding as though he had been waiting for the right time to say those words. Ian scowled as he really did not know what he was referring to. He waited for an answer while looking around, puzzled, his arms still extended outwards.

“When you’re getting eye fucked by some cowboy who’s trying to take you home, you should be able to tell them to go fuck themselves.” He wiped his hands on his jeans before opening the driver's side door to grab an old bottle of Gatorade.

Ian was still standing there staring at him. “Mickey, it’s not like…” He began speaking searching for the right words but didn't quite know the point he was trying to make and why he had to make one. Maybe Mickey was right. Maybe he was too passive and didn’t put his foot down enough with strangers, especially the ones that were trying to hit on him.

“It’s not like I was going to go home with him.” He said after a few moments. “Do you really think that?” He tried to follow his eyes as he waited for a valid answer.

Mickey shook his head again. “I mean, no. But you should still be able put your fucking big boy pants on and ignore their desperate asses, not let the conversation's keep going. It makes me look like I don't matter. It's a slap in my fucking face—"

Ian cut him off as soon as he processed what he was implying. “And you should be able to control yourself from face pounding every dude that talks to me.”

He watched him lick his lips as his eyebrows furrowed together, a look Ian was all too familiar with. “It’s not about them,” He walked to where he was standing and proceeded to poke him in the center of his chest, reminding Ian of the fight they had gotten into the previous week.

“It’s about you. I don’t think you get it. Dudes like that are going to be all over you shit in Mexico. And some of them won’t take no for an answer.”

Ian laughed sarcastically. He was trying not to come off rude but he was insulted. “You’re basically saying you don’t think I’ll do anything about it.” He crossed his arms most likely looking ridiculous on the side of the freeway. 

Mickey nodded, looking past Ian at the distant cars behind him. "That's exactly what I'm fucking saying." 

With the whirlwind of events that led them to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, and now that he and Mickey were arguing, Ian's stress level was hitting it's max. He watched as he walked around the side of the car to the rear, hopping on the trunk and not saying a word to him. Ian knew he was trying to get away from him but he followed right behind him until he was standing in his view making sure to stare directly in his round blue eyes, the moonlight twinkling in them ever so perfectly. He was tired as he felt a rush of exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks but it wasn't going to stop him from getting his two cents in. He didn't want Mickey truly believing he wouldn't stand up for him in the right situation. His perception of him was unsettling and he was going to defend himself, even if that meant proving his point on the side of Interstate 35 at nearly two in the morning.

"Maybe if you weren't so fucking insecure," He started, being absolutely sure he was looking at him. "And had a little confidence you wouldn't be so paranoid about this shit." Ian knew his words were harsh but he didn't hold back, and didn't want to. He felt Mickey needed to be aware of his concerns.

He began laughing just as Ian did before, his bellow chimed with sarcasm. "Okay, well next time you see some dude trying to get me to suck his dick I'll be sure to hit him with a fist of confidence. That'll teach 'em." At this point Mickey wasn't look at him. He was staring blankly into the black abyss of the night, the periodic beam of headlights hitting his flushed cheeks and revealing a testy smile.

Ian moved all sorts of directions in front of his eyes trying to get him to look at him again. "I don't feel the need to upper cut every guy who tries to talk to you. I know when it comes down to it you would tell--"

He cut him of suddenly, his tone cold and firm. "I wouldn't just fucking tell them. I wouldn't even give anyone the time of the day." He stepped down from the car quickly landing directly at Ian's feet, sizing him up as if he was making a threat. "Unlike you. You just let them chop it up with you while I sit there with my thumb up my ass."

"I do not! You can always chime in--"

"I don't want to fucking chime in! I don't want to talk to anyone! Fuck everybody else!" He was shouting now, the octaves in his voice increasing as he had his classic pissed off expression on his face. One that Ian dreaded seeing and didn't like being the cause of. "And maybe I am a little fucking insecure, okay? Maybe I am fucking jealous or whatever but... I can't help it..." His voice was trailing off as his face now formed into a sorrowful gaze. Ian's heart felt heavy.

Mickey continued. "You fucking left me at the border and then fucked other people-"

Ian spoke over him before he could keep ranting. "So did you!" He shouted in defense. "You went to the clubs in Mexico! You're being a fucking hypocrite!" He was stepping closer, getting back into his face making sure to stare intensely into his eyes once more, piercing his heart with his accusations. He could feel the tension between them magnetically connecting their bodies together.

For the first time in about four years, since the time he had left to join the military, he saw Mickey Milkovich stutter and trip over his words. It was almost over whelming to witness as he knew he was on the verge of some great break down. Tears were beginning to build up in his reflective eyes but none fell yet. He sighed, looking upwards like he didn't want to admit what he was trying to say. It was a literal inner battle Ian was watching as Mickey was struggling to break down one last wall before it fell to pieces.

"I... I WANT YOU TO FUCKING FIGHT FOR ME!" He yelled, finally spitting out his sentence as if it has been locked away inside of him, begging to break free from his vocal cords. He walked away from him for a moment putting his hand over his mouth, sniffling as tried to pull himself together and prevent any tears from falling.

At first, Ian felt sympathetic and weary, his heart not only feeling heavy but now slowly sinking to the floor. He felt regretful as if he had done something wrong but these feelings left in an instant when Mickey's words finally clicked in his head. He walked back towards where he stood and jumped in front of his sight forcing him to hear what he had to say. He spoke through gritted teeth trying to control his anger level as the stress, anxiety, sleep deprivation, and constant pressure built up inside of him began to unleash.

"Fight for you?" He asked, his eyes narrowing evilly as he inched closer to him. "Fight for you?" He repeated. "You know, I know I fucked up the first time, and I know I wasn't the man you needed me to be but you know damn well I fucking regret it, every day. I've cried in your arms countless nights and I've apologized endlessly for what I did to you and how I treated you, but eventually, I did what was right. Yeah, I was a little late but I pulled my head out of my ass, I got my shit straightened out and I waited until I was clear minded and healthy to come and see you. When I did you were a fucking wreck with your pills, your booze and then your fucking heroin. I forced you to get sober and stuck by your side until you weren't sick anymore, dealt with all your verbal abuse, cleaned up your puke, piss and shit. I tried to make up for lost times and give you the date we never had. I got your drug dealer to stay away from you and then when he came back and kidnapped you and your sister I went and found you," At that very moment a huge semi-truck was passing by them, the roar of the engine was difficult to shout over but Ian made sure his voice projected. "AND THEN KILLED FUCKING GUY WHICH IS WHY WE'RE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE! SO DON'T EVER," He leaned in closer to Mickey, pointing in his face and spitting as he spoke. "EVER SAY I DON'T FIGHT FOR YOU!" He screamed. He backed away, turning from him and walking around the car to get back into the passenger seat, slamming the door with such force that the booming sound of it shutting rang in his ears for several seconds after.

He was panting heavily as if he had just jogged a mile but it was purely anger inside of him that was finally coming to a head. The pressure of driving cross country to escape the law from a murder charge was beginning to make him crack. 300 miles ago Mexico seemed so close, but now with the given circumstances it felt like it was farther than ever.

As he was alone with himself in the car the frustration began to slip away quicker than he thought. The feelings of guilt began to cloud his thoughts as he went back and forth in his head trying to justify why he screamed at Mickey but knowing it wasn't right. He let his feelings get the best of him this time, something he tried so badly to keep from happening. He leaned his head against the window, the somewhat cool glass feeling pleasurable on his hot forehead. 

He stared into the sky above him as the stars were scattered across the blackened night looking much more vivid than they ever did in Chicago. He yawned uncontrollably as he pulled out his phone from his pocket to check the time. _2:13_. He was about to slip it back in where it belonged when something from inside his pocket had fallen onto the floorboard.

A piece of neatly folded notebook paper.

He bent down to retrieve it remembering was it was before he unfolded it, barely glancing at the written words when his heart fluttered with hope.

"Tiffany." He said aloud, a small smile forming on his face.

He dialed the number at the bottom of the page, his nerves taking over as his heart still continued to beat at an alarming rate. It didn't even ring twice when that high pitched Southern accent was heard on the other side of the line.

"This is Tiffany." She said slowly but upbeat as if she was answering the phone at a receptionist desk, full of domination and unafraid of who might be calling.

"Hey," Ian said as he swallowed deeply trying to talk over his nerves. "Tiffany. This is Ian. From the casino the other night. Sorry we left you so... soon." Ian wasn't sure how to word that him and Mickey had departed rather quick to have passionate drunken sex.

She gasped, her excited, giddy tone ringing into the line. "Oh my goodness! How are yall? Yall disappeared on me. Are you still in town? I just got off, maybe we can all get some pancakes or somethin'. There's an IHOP around the corner and they got these cinnastack pancakes and oh my god they're just to die for. Where are yall? I can come pick you up?"

Ian laughed nervously. "Actually, uhm..." He looked over his shoulder behind him. Mickey was leaning on the side of the car staring blankly into space. "We aren't in town anymore. We're about 100 miles South of Dallas." He said fiddling with the door lock nervously.

She paused for a moment but continued talking at the speed of light. "Dallas? Your grandma live around there?" She asked. Ian thought it was sweet she remembered, though she was so far off from the reality of the situation it was difficult to play along.

"Uhm, yeah. Well..." He cleared his throat. "Kind of. She's about another two hours away. I was wondering uhm..." He kept pausing between words wondering how he was going to ask what he wanted to ask. "Well, we got a flat tire and we were wondering if it wasn't too much trouble you could come... Give us a pick us up? I know it's not exactly close to you... At all... but I really have to... go see her..." Ian was trying to stay focused hoping his story was believable. "And we can pay you for your time. And gas of course." He added, trying to make it sound like a more considerable offer.

She spoke immediately, the sound of a smile was heard through her words. "I mean, sure!" She shouted.

Ian almost choked on his own spit. He coughed slightly. "Are you serious?" He said suddenly but fixed his words. "I mean, you would really do that?"

"Well I wouldn't want yall to miss your grandma. Cancer is just ugly, you know? And besides, I love me a good road trip! I drive down through Dallas all the time. My my baby daddy, Andre, he's in the Garza state penitentiary over there down South. You know, over bear Corpus Christi? I make that drive faithfully once a month for the past seven years." She said happily, her proud tone almost worrying Ian. "It'll take me awhile to get down there. Probably not until morning sometime but I got me some enhancements."

Ian blinked a few times. "Enhancements?" He asked curiously.

"Yeah, you know..." She lowered her voice. " _Cocaine._ " She giggled again.

He laughed forcibly. "Oh, right. Yeah." 

"Well why don't you text me exactly where yall are at and I'll head down South. Are you excited?! I am!" She shouted.

He had a strange feeling she had already taken some of her enhancements. "Okay, yeah. Uhm, we're in a silver Toyota. You can't miss us. Thank you so much Tiffany. I don't even know what--"

"Don't say a word! I got a journey ahead of me! Kisses!" He heard her plant a kiss into the phone before hanging up.

As soon as the phone call ended he sent her a text of their exact location feeling incredibly accomplished. He leaned over the side of the driver's seat reaching down to the trunk latch and popping it. He stepped out of the car and shut the door much quieter than he had before. He grabbed all of their bags and belongings from the trunk, swinging them over his shoulders and heading in the opposite direction of the freeway. There was a large grassy area with a few trees nearby. He figured if they had this long of a wait ahead of them they were much better off hiding somewhere out of plain sight. As he was walking away from the car he heard Mickey's panicked but stern yell behind him. He knew the image he was seeing didn't look good.

"Where the fuck are you going?!" He shouted.

"To wait!" Ian shouted back, turning his head to be heard over the passing cars once again.

"Wait for what?!" He heard his voice get closer as he was following behind him.

"Tiffany!" He replied. There were paused footsteps before he heard him continue following.

"Who the fucks Tiffany?!"

He was getting closer to but Ian ignored him, leading the way as the entered a small, shaded valley of foliage where he placed their bags down gently. There was a large, round tree stump in the middle of the valley, a perfect seat which Ian didn't hesitate to take. He sat there for a moment finally deciding to answer Mickey's previous question.

"Tiffany was the nice lady we met at the casino whom you were very rude to," He made sure to shoot him a dark look. "And she said she would come here and give us a lift."

"A lift? It's not just a fucking lift it's like a few hundred miles." Ian could feel his eyes on him but he didn't meet them. "And she's just gonna swing by? Pick us up and take us down to Mexico out of the kindness of her heart?"

Ian shrugged. "I don't know, I didn't get that far. All I know is she's making her way down here and we'll go from there."

"Great fucking plan..." Mickey muttered under his breath but Ian heard him loud and clear.

"Oh yeah let's here yours then!" He shouted. He was staring at Mickey now, watching as he was shaking his head, tossing a fist full of grass he ripped from the earth. "Better than having no fucking plan at all." He added, his tone bitter as he threw a piece of bark he had peeled from the tree stump.

Mickey didn't appear to have any sort of rebuttal which might have been a first ever.

They sat there together in silence for a painfully long time, almost feeling like hours but Ian didn't dare look at the time. He knew if he did that the longer it would take; much like watching water boil. After even more time passed he saw that Mickey began pacing around in circles like he was on the side of the road, sighing deeply every so often. He typically wasn't much of a pacer, usually Ian was, but he knew why he was doing it and what this meant. He was antsy for a cigarette and it was only just the beginning. He soon placed his hands behind his head, intertwining his fingers and facing up to the sky as if he was looking for some sort of cosmic answer. 

Ian had laid down on the ground where he spread a small wool blanket out that he had packed. Mickey was being stubborn but after much resistance he finally gave up and joined him, laying by his side as they stared up at the night sky together. There was only a few more hours of darkness left before the sun would rise but Ian was hoping Tiffany would be there by then. By this time he was just as desperate for a cigarette as Mickey was and his stomach started to rumble with hunger. It was going to be a long wait.

Mickey was laying with his hands locked to his chest biting his lip roughly. Without looking at him Ian reached his arm down to grab his hand, pulling it towards him. As soon as he realized what he was doing he attempted to snatch his hand back but Ian held tightly.

"Quit it." He snapped.

Mickey gave up the fight but left his hand limp in his like a dead weight. His attitude showed that he was clearly still irritated with him. He hated when they had this angsty tension. Ian tried to change the subject to a more lighter note.

"The stars are bright tonight." He murmured quietly. It was peaceful even though he could still hear the rush of cars passing by in the distance. Ian felt he was talking to himself at first until finally, Mickey spoke.

"I looked up at these stars a lot." He said lightly, almost in a faint whisper as if he didn’t want to say it.

Ian looked over at him, interested. "In Mexico?" He asked.

He nodded slowly. "On the beach almost every night. Thinking of you and hoping maybe somewhere, somehow, you were staring at them too."

Ian was not expecting him to say what he had said as his words shot into his heart like knives. He cleared his throat and chose his words carefully before he responded.

"I remember the last time we stared up at the stars like this. Remember that?" He said trying to spark a good memory but instantly regretted it.

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Yeah I try to fucking forget it."

"Well, this time is going to be different." He said his words with integrity but Mickey still wouldn't look at him.

His hand slipped out of Ian's grasp as he turned over on his side away from him. He sighed heavily, annoyed with his attitude but he wasn't going to argue; he knew he was upset with him so he left him alone. Besides, the both of them were too stubborn for any kind of apology at this point.

If Ian wasn't so exhausted he might have let his anxiety keep him awake for the rest of the night and what little was left of it, but gradually his eyes became heavy as he somehow drifted off to sleep.

\---

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Ian was half asleep when he felt his phone vibrating steadily in his pocket. He was about to reach for it when Mickey's alarming voice spoke.

"Answer your phone!" He ordered.

He opened his eyes, closing them immediately when the bright sunlight hit his eyeballs. It was definitely morning now. He was drowsy and disoriented as he answered the phone not even bothering to read the caller I.D.

"Hello?" He groaned. 

"Hey, sweetie. I think I'm here. I see your car on the side of the road. Where are yall?" Tiffany spoke fast but the sound of her voice sent a rush of relief through him as an unavoidable smile broke out of his face. He shot up from the ground completely covered in dead grass and dirt but didn't bother to wipe off.

"We're here. We're here." He repeated frantically. "We'll be out there in less than a minute." Before she could respond he hungup, rushing to gather the blanket and the rest of their things.

"She's already here?" Mickey questioned. Ian didn't answer him but instead bolted out of the grassy valley running back down to the highway. There was a dark green dodge caravan parked in front of the Corolla. The van had paint chipping off in numerous places and the bumper seemed to be hanging by a whim. He saw Tiffany in the front seat smiling excitedly and waving for them to get in. He rushed over, opening the sliding door and shoving their bags in as quickly as possible. He returned to the front seat where he joined her as Mickey climbed in the back.

"Thank you so much!" Ian said gratefully. He faced Tiffany as she was looking in the rear view mirror adjusting her hair. This time she had pink eyeshadow caked on her eyelids instead of blue. She wore a low cut purple shirt but was dressed much more casual than she was at the casino. She had a pair of blue jeans on and large silver hoops popping out of her bleached hair.

"Oh don't worry about it!" She said sweetly. "I'm just glad yall called."

Mickey was quiet, his arms folded as he stared out the window.

"Should I call the tow company?" She asked, her eyes on the abandoned car.

Ian shook his head instantly. "Nah, just leave it."

She glanced at him for a few seconds, her brown eyes accentuated in the sunlight. "Are you sure? You're just going to leave it here?" She asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, it was a shitty car anyway." He chuckled awkwardly. 

After she processed this she shrugged her shoulders and popped her gum loudly. "Alright then. Where am I headed?" She asked looking out onto the road.

Ian stuttered slightly not really knowing what to say. "Uhm... South. Just head South." He had no clue how he was going to tell her they were headed to Mexico but he figured it was pointless to bring it up now. 

"South. Got it." She replied. She stared of at Ian again gripping the steering wheel and clenching her body with excitement, her smile growing even wider. She began accelerating and speeding up with the other cars until she was going fast enough to merge left onto the highway. As they set out onto the open road Ian glanced at the time on the dashboard. _9:53_. Down below the clock was the stereo, a poorly installed one that flashed different colors as digital letters slid across the screen. Brittney Spears was playing loudly in the on some local station. Directly below it was a small compartment where there was a case of Double Bubble gum and a green pack of cigarettes. Ian nearly grabbed one instantly but knew it was better to ask. Before he could speak Mickey's hand popped up between them.

"Can I get one of those?" He asked desperately. "I'm fucking dying."

Tiffany nodded vigorously. "Oh sure!" She reached for the pack grabbing three out and handing them each one of their own. She was driving with her knees as her hands were busy distributing smokes. She lit up then handed Mickey a shiny hot pink lighter with a black Playboy bunny on it. Mickey lit his cigarette so fast Ian barely heard the lighter flick. He took it from him and sparked, inhaling a large drag as instant relaxation hit him but the taste of menthol nearly made him gag. He must have made a grimace as Tiffany let out her small giggle.

"Yall don't like newports? Sorry. That's all I got. Andre got me hooked on them."

Ian began thinking, repeating the name Andre in his head. Was he supposed to know who this was? Tiffany talked a lot and had told Ian many things in the short time that they knew each other.

_Andre. Andre. Andre..._

His mind raced for answers. Finally a lightbulb went off in his head as he remembered this was Tiffany's baby's dad. One of them at least. Before he could respond she was already talking a million miles a minute. This continued for nearly an hour as all Ian could do was nod as if he was listening. After a while, he almost tuned her out but still picking up bits in pieces when he could. His mind was too focused on getting to their destination. He knew Mickey must have been annoyed but he was wise not to comment on it.

Suddenly the alerting sound of a news man's voice came on the radio when Ian froze in his seat.

"...Two men in South Dallas last night got into a physical altercation at a local bar when witnesses say a disagreement with another man got out of hand. The two men reportedly attacked the innocent bystander, assaulted the bartender and fled the scene. The two men were identified as Mikhailo Milkovich and Ian Gallagher, both whom are wanted for alleged murder in Southern Chicago, fleeing the state in a stolen silver Toyota Corolla. Witnesses say Milkovich is 5'7 with short black hair. Gallagher is described as being 6'0 with red-"

Ian awkwardly turned down the radio so that absolutely no sound was on. He wasn't sure whether to look at Tiffany and apologize or just keep staring blankly at the road ahead of them. Though he was anxious for her reaction he was also prepared for anything at this point and getting thrown out of the car onto the side of the interstate would not come as any sort of surprise.

"Well that cat's outta the fucking bag..." Mickey whispered himself but was heard from the backseat.

Ian peered over at Tiffany who was staring back and forth from him to the road, her expression looked more confused than it did shocked. He wasn't sure if he should explain himself or not. He was collecting his thoughts when Tiffany pointed to the stereo then back to Ian.

"Yall aren't going to visit your grandma are you?" She asked, her tone much like a curious child.

Both him and Mickey shook their head in unison looking embarrassed and ashamed.

"I..." Ian began speaking but was at a loss for words.

Mickey suddenly interjected. "We're not like some psycho ass serial killers or some shit. My drug dealer kidnapped and beat the shit out of me and my little sister. Pregnant little sister." He added the last part of his sentence sternly as if it made the story sound better. "So... he killed him. He didn't mean to, though. It was an accident. He was pissed. Fucking pissed."

It was obvious he was trying to smooth things over but Ian didn't think it was helping their case, especially now that Tiffany knew she was driving them to unknown location.

"Wait, you killed him?" She asked pointing to Ian. "I would expect that from you," She glanced at Mickey in the rear view mirror. "But not from you, ginger boy." She giggled again before she blew a perfectly spherical pink bubble, sucking it back in so it snapped between her lips.

"My baby's daddy is in jail, Andre." She continued. "He killed the mail man. Wasn't really an accident but he was just real pissed off, you know? The Cowboys were losing that day, he smoked all his weed and couldn't get a loan on one of his hand guns. So when the mail came and he didn't get his favorite cookies his momma always gets him from Missouri, he just lost it. He had just had it, you know?" Tiffany spoke as if she was telling an story she had told many times. She was still chewing her gum obnoxiously, not even seeming to be phased by the bit of information she had just learned.

"And apparently..." She pulled another Newport out of her pack. "You can't even touch a mailman or a bus driver. It's like... a federal offense or somethin'." She sparked up her cigarette, inhaling a drag and blowing it in Ian's face unintentionally. "He'll be eligible for parole in 2028. Miss the shit out of him. I got a tattoo down here of his name, yall wanna see?" She put her knees back on the steering wheel when Ian grabbed it in reflex. She placed her cigarette in her mouth and began pulling her jeans down when Mickey stopped her from going any further.

"No, no. That's really okay. We believe you sweetie." He insisted. He seemed to be nicer now that their cover was blown and they were walking on thin ice even though Tiffany didn't seem to be phased by anything at all.

"I'm uhm... sorry to hear that." Ian once again wasn't sure what to say.

She sighed, tilting her head out the window and staring. "It's alright. My daddy died in prison. I'm used to it."

For some reason this made him almost want to cry being reminded more of Mandy whom he missed terribly. 

"So!" She borderline shouted causing both Mickey and Ian to jump in surprise. "Where am I off too? I guess not over the river and through the woods to grandma's house." More giggling erupted from her pink lips.

Ian laughed back at her halfheartedly. "Well, actually we're going down to Mexico to try and get away--"

"Mexico!?" Now she was shouting. "I love Mexico! Andre and I went there on our honeymoon way back when. Got robbed at gunpoint and almost overdosed on speed but boy was it sure fun! Conceived junior down there, too. I haven't been there in years." She was gazing out the window again, daydreaming as her mind seemed to wander.

"I mean," Ian began hesitantly. "That's kind of a long trek..."

"I told you I love road trips!" She said excitedly.

He laughed again, nodding in agreeance. "You sure did but that's pretty far, Tiffany. Like, really far. We still have a ways to go."

She scoffed. "I know where Mexico is, silly! I don't mind a one bit."

"What about your kids?" Mickey asked. Ian thought his concern was sweet.

"Oh, they're just fine. With my sister or the babysitter. One of the two. I need a break from those damn rugrats anyway." She kept talking faster as Ian could barely catch on to her sentences. "I'm going to see Andre on the way back up. Try and put some cash on his books. Yall want a bump?" Ian's eyes shot over at her as she held a small plastic baggy in her hand covered with printed yellow smiley faces. He could almost feel Mickey lunge towards the baggy as he held his hand up before he could grab it.

"No thank you." Ian said graciously. "He's in recovery." He shot a playful look back at Mickey who sat back in his seat, crossing his arms and pouting.

He laughed sarcastically. "Yeah you just wait until we get to Mexico. People will practically be shoving that shit up your nose left and right."

He forced a smile. "Good thing you nor I will be accepting the favor."

"Why, because you're so good at saying no?" He snapped.

"Oh shut up." Ian replied, rolling his eyes and shrugging him off. He and Mickey still had unfinished business to discuss seeing as they didn't leave on a good note.

Mickey didn't seem to have anything left to say, and if he did, Ian didn't hear him. He relaxed in his seat as the comfort of no longer being in a stolen car seemed to ease some of his worries.

As they day went on the Texas sun rose higher in the sky making the temperatures increase drastically. Thankfully Tiffany's van had decent air conditioning which kept them moderately cool. They drove South for about another two hours before both him and Mickey had smoked nearly all of her cigarettes and needed to replenish their own supply. They stopped at a shabby, run down corner store to pick up some refreshments. As soon as they walked in the door they went their separate ways, Mickey still avoiding Ian at all costs and making it painfully obvious. He was unsure what he was even still upset about but Ian decided he wasn't going to entertain it. In his eyes he believed if anyone should be angry and hurt it should be him. Mickey's lack of confidence and trust in him was hurtful and unfair so he was going to let his temper tantrum run its course.

When they finally met at the cashier to check out, Ian wasn't surprised to find Mickey with a 12 rack and a can of BBQ Pringles. Before he could reach for his wad of cash in his pocket Ian already pulled his wallet out and paid for him. He gave him an apologetic look before collecting his things and making his way back to the car. He bought five packs of cigarettes along with a jar of Planter's peanuts. He was starving for a real meal but the excitement of getting closer to their last stop was enough to make his hunger subside.

Tiffany was already in the car with the engine started waiting to take off again. He was unsure if she even came in the store as she didn't have anything to eat but remembered cocaine was quite the appetite suppressant.

"Yall ready!?" She spoke with way too much enthusiasm.

He and Mickey climbed into the car and before he could even get the door shut the sound of a can cracking popped from the back seat followed by long slurps and a relieving sigh. Ian turned around, extending his arm and reaching for a beer. Mickey gave him an odd look before handing one over.

They continued driving on as the hours passed, Tiffany talking the entire time and not leaving any detail of her life left unsaid. Ian leaned his head back on the seat drinking road beers and actually listening intently to her stories as they were more entertaining than whatever was playing on the radio. He was thankful for Tiffany's gratitude and owed her considering she was driving around two strangers with a murder charge and still didn't pass any judgement. After about four beers he was starting to feel the warmness of the alcohol and his eyelids grew heavy. Tiffany's voice was sounding more like a lullaby now as he stared out of his window watching other cars pass by. Before he knew it he was falling asleep again.

\--- 

_A low hum echoed in his ears._

_There was a breeze blowing on his face, a scent of the ocean hitting him instantly._

_He was walking forward in a small enclosed hut with nothing in it except for a bed beside him._

_"Come on!" He heard someone shouting in the distance. The voice was a familiar one._

_"Come on," They said. "You can't be late."_

_Lip emerged from a small doorway just ahead of him. He was wearing a dress shirt, a small baby in his arms wrapped in a pink blanket._

_"It's a girl?" Ian asked, trying to get a view of the child but Lip was pulling on him, guiding him through a doorway._

_He looked down to see he was barefoot wearing khaki shorts and a white button up shirt._

_His hands were actually tanned and sun kissed with more freckles than usual. His noticed a black ring on his ring finger._

_He stepped out onto a beautiful beach, the smell of the air much stronger now as the breeze hit him just right._

_He felt the hot sand on the soles of his feet._

_Lip accompanied Mandy who was wearing a light blue dress, her smile breaming with happiness._

_"You're wearing a dress."_

_No one seemed to acknowledge him._

_As he looked around he was pleased to find all of his siblings on the beach now, every one of them smiling warmly, welcoming him._

_"Finally." There was Mickey's sweet voice._

_He appeared in front of him. He planted a small kiss on his lips._

_He was illuminated, his glowing skin shining in the sunlight looking absolutely angelic._

_A gorgeous smile appeared on his face and lit up the world. It as breathtaking._

_"We made it." He said, still holding his hands lovingly._

_He opened his mouth to respond but the wonderful view began fading away..._

\---

Ian jumped as he was woken up by Mickey's hand shaking his shoulder gently.

"Woah, relax." He said calmly. "We're almost there."

Ian rubbed his eyes, looking around him in confusion. "Where?"

"The border."

Those words made Ian shoot up from his seat.

He realized it was already dark now and winced in pain as his rear ached from sitting for so long.

"How long did I sleep?" He asked, still confused.

"Like five hours. Are you okay?" Mickey asked, placing is hands on Ian's shoulder. At that moment he turned around in his seat to get a good look at him. A nervous expression was evident on his face. His eyebrows were raised and he waited for an honest response.

Ian nodded aggressively. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Are you okay?"

Mickey nodded back still staring at him for some sort of acknowledgement. Ian knew they were really asking each other if they were ready for what was about to happen.

It was now becoming more clear that this moment would either make or break them. They would either be thrown in prison for a very long time or be given infinite freedom. Ian could feel the sweat start to build on his forehead as his anxiety began to rise again. 

"How much longer until we're there?" He asked, fully awake now and trying not to sound like he was panicking.

"About twenty minutes." Tiffany replied. Ian had almost forgot she was driving the car. He could see Mickey fidgeting nervously in his peripheral vision.

"Did you sleep at all?" He asked. 

Mickey shook his head. "Nope, couldn't if I fucking tried."

Ian glanced down at the floor to find a brown grocery bag full of beer cans. He fixed his gaze back to the road where he saw nothing but flatland for miles ahead of him. If he didn't know any better he would have sworn he saw the earth curve in the distance. The sun was just beginning to set though there was nothing for it to fall behind. Soon it would be moving under the edge of the globe and Ian was hoping they would be in a different country by then.

Twenty minutes seemed to fly by. As soon as Ian finished his first cigarette from his nap, Tiffany was already pulling into a line of cars.

Mickey squeezed his shoulder, sighing before he spoke. "This is it."

There was a mass of people before them. They were waiting in lines, standing outside of their cars and sitting along the side of the drive-through with luggage and backpacks.

"Apparently the U.S Mexican border is packed tonight." Ian said looking around as the crowds of people lined up to get through.

"Yeah it's Friday night," Tiffany responded tossing her Newport out the crack of the window. "Everyone wants to get in and party for the weekend and what not. It's usually always busy though."

As soon as she hit the brakes and put the van in park Mickey was practically jumping out the sliding door, collecting their bags and getting their things together. He seemed to looked extremely alert as he began handing Ian a few of his bags.

"We're going right now?" He asked, concerned that they were already leaving.

Mickey stopped shuffling and stared back at him. "Uh. Yeah? We're walking across. Unless you brought your passport and want to come join the party?" He looked over at Tiffany who was still chomping on the same piece of gum.

She sighed longingly. "Oh, I would love to. But, Andre. I got to go visit him tomorrow." She seemed sad by her words and was now looking up at Ian with her big amber eyes. "Maybe next weekend?" She suggested.

Ian swallowed as he didn't know if there was going to be a next weekend. The image of himself in an orange jumpsuit behind prison bars popped in his head, separated from his love and the outside world. 

"Yeah," He said hesitantly. "That would be nice." 

He got out of the car before he let the thought keep lingering and cause anxiety go into overdrive. He joined Mickey in the backseat helping him load their bags and swinging a few over his shoulder. 

_This is really happening._ He thought to himself and he wiped several beads of sweat that began to drip from his forehead onto his temples. He didn't want to meet Mickey's eyes but he couldn't avoid them. He gave him a weak, nerve induced smile as panic began to set in and he could feel his blood pressure raise in digits.

Mickey adjusted a strap on Ian's shoulder, rolling it over so it laid flat. "You ready?" He asked as he smeared some of the dirt off of his chin for him. "Fuck, we look like shit." He shook his head in disappointment.

It was true, though. They had slept in dirt all night and hadn't had a shower or a new change of clothes in almost two days, but they didn't have a choice. They had to keep going forward as it was quite literally now or never.

"I'll wait for yall to get over." Tiffany said a she was fixing her makeup in the rear view mirror. "I'll watch from a distance." 

For some reason Ian had the sudden thought that this wasn't the first time Tiffany had done this and his heart ached for her. He walked up to the driver's side window, leaning his arms on the car door and laying a hand on her shoulder. He squeezed it as he smiled gratefully.

"I could never thank you enough for doing this." Ian said quietly. He stared directly into her eyes so she couldn't look away. She was smiling from ear to ear, her pink lipgloss glistening in the sun's beam. 

"You don't have to thank me at all sweetie. It was really no big-" Ian cut her off as he reached into his pocket pulling out his wallet and retrieving seven 100 dollar bills which he handed to her.

"This is for you. I want you to take it," He wouldn't let her speak as he held his index finger just inches away from her mouth. "And when I say it's for you, I mean it. Not for Andre's books and not for more cocaine." His tone was so serious even Mickey was leaning in listening intently to his directions. "This is for you to get yourself something nice. Take your kids out. Buy some new clothes. You understand?"

Tiffany nodded so hard it made her silver hoops rock violently in her ear lobes as she slowly pulled the cash from between his fingers. Mickey nudged Ian out of the way as he began to speak.

"Thanks for taking us to Mexico." Mickey said reluctantly but honestly. Ian flashed her one more smile before they both turned away.

"Wait!" She shouted.

Both Ian and Mickey turned back around to face her before going on.

"Will you keep in touch? Will you call me?" Her eyes were the widest Ian had seen them. She had sunk in her seat waiting desperately for an answer.

"I'll call you as soon as I can." He gave her a small wave. "Bye, Tiffany. Thank you." 

She didn't say anything back to him but Ian knew she watched them as they continued on their journey.

Mickey was quiet and started speed walking between cars as he was making his way to the front entrance. As Ian followed he made sure to have their fake I.Ds and passports ready in hand. The closer they got to the front gate the more Ian's stomach began doing hurls and flips of suspense. Mickey was walking so fast that he almost had to jog to keep up. When they finally approached the entrance there was a large line of people waiting and carrying luggage just like they were. 

"Fuck." Mickey said as he stood on his tiptoes to see over people's heads, though Ian could see past most of them. There was a line of what resembled ticket booths where border patrol checked paperwork and let people enter the country. It was almost bizarre to Ian as he had never seen anything like it before. It felt like a bad dream. Every time someone else was able to pass the line would move up a few steps. It reminded of Ian when he went with Fiona to get his driver's license, except instead of being approved to legally drive he was being given a pass to enter Mexico freely. Every few seconds when they would step a little closer Ian's anxiety would rise a little higher. He was sweating profusely now as terrible thoughts were clouding his brain. Every few moments he was staring over at Mickey who was biting his nails, something he hadn't witnessed in years. He was a nervous wreck which only made Ian more stressed. 

This could be the last few seconds he would ever see Mickey again. He felt his gut wrench at the very thought of it and didn't know quite how to process that reality. As Mickey was looking around he seemed to have caught a glimpse of him realizing how nervous he was.

"Hey," He said, trying his best to lower his tone and remain calm. "it's going to be okay. We're right here. Breath. Breath Ian." He said as he leaned into him but was still scanning his surroundings. It sounded like he was also coaching himself into not going off the deep end. Ian was tempted to light a cigarette right then and there but nobody else seemed to be smoking and attracting any kind of attention wasn't the best idea.

The fifteen minute wait in line was more agonizing than the eighteen hour car ride.

"Oh my fucking god." Mickey said suddenly, his words putting Ian into near cardiac arrest. Instant panic erupted in him as his chest began to tighten. He was looking all around, his eyes shifting in all different directions.

"What?! What, what is it?!" He asked, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it boom in his ears.

Mickey got out of line and began to walk directly towards one of the booths, pulling Ian with him. He leaned in his ear, whispering as he walked. "We've been touched by a fucking angel." 

Ian had absolutely no clue what was happening and instinctively looked behind him in case some was following or noticed they moved themselves out of line. Did Mickey know somebody here? Would it blow their cover? They walked up to the large, overweight Hispanic man whom was the only border patrol officer sitting on a stool in the tiny booth. He was wearing a pair of glasses with greasy black hair slicked to his forehead. Ian had never seen Mickey so excited as he was nearly jumping into the booth and smiling so big it caused him to have some slight relief.

"Sergio! What the fuck are you doing here?!" He half shouted. "I didn't know you still worked this shit!" He had never seen Mickey so exuberant.

Sergio looked up as he adjusted his glasses, a scared expression on his face as he realized who he was looking at it. This was not what Ian was expecting.

"Mickey? You're back?" He asked nervously as he flipped his greased hair out of his eyes. He looked utterly terrified.

"Long fucking story, man. Look, I need you to get me through." Mickey didn't seem to waste any time almost hysterical as he was looking behind him again. Ian stood there awkwardly feeling severely out of place and still out of the loop.

Sergio shook his head in refusal. "No, man. I can't do that shit again. You have to go through the real way. I can't fucking do it." 

Mickey's smiled faded as fast at is appeared. "Come on, you fucking gotta help me out here. I have to get over. You let me do it before-"

"That was different!" Sergio held up a hand which seemed to be covered in white powder. Ian looked down at the desk to find a package of raspberry filled donuts, most already devoured. "You know I can't do that-"

"SHIT!" Mickey shouted giving him an intense stare then slammed his fist on the counter top. Sergio jumped as it startled him. "How much?!" 

"Wha- What?" He seemed to be tripping over his words.

"How much do I have to fucking give you? God damnit if you weren't on the other side of this plastic right now." Mickey was obviously trying to intimidate this man who seemed to be incredibly fearful of him.

"I.. I don't know." Ian felt bad for this man as his petrified voice was cracking.

"Don't bullshit me." Mickey was pointing, his finger white from being pressed so firmly on the glass. "I know you got three kids to feed. How much? I pay, you let us go." Mickey ordered. As soon as Sergio realized he would have to let two people in he shot a look at Ian.

"Is this that redheaded-"

"HOW MUCH?!" Mickey was almost screaming now as Ian put his hand on his arm trying to get him to lower his voice.

Sergio looked around him at the other officers standing quietly at their booths, looking over people's passports, stamping them and letting them go on. He huffed loudly and flipped his hair out of his eyes again. He sat up straight as he seemed to gain some confidence.

He leaned in close to the plastic divider, looking around him cautiously. "How much you got?" 

Mickey scowled. "No. I'm not playing that game. Name your fucking price." He was getting impatient now as the sun continued to set lower and darkness began to consume them.

"Two grand." Sergio said abruptly, holding his hand out for the payment.

Ian couldn't believe what was happening.

"You got to be kidding me. Two fucking grand huh?" Mickey stared at him, reaching in his pocket for the wad of cash.

Ian interjected placing his hand lightly on his arm. "Are you sure you want to do that?" He said trying to keep his voice as low as possible.

"Yes." He said with certainty. "I pay and he lets us through with no record of it anywhere. This is the best way to go. Please just trust me, Ian."

Ian's mind suddenly flashed to their fight the night before where he had screamed in his face and left him standing on the side of the freeway. He also was reminded of the last time they had been here and Ian had let him go by himself into a different country, leaving him to face the world alone.

His second chance was now.

"Alright." He surrendered. "I trust you." 

He stared back at Sergio as Mickey quickly counted the amount. He handed it over and there was now going back now.

"Give him the passports." Mickey ordered and Ian scrambled to slide them under the plastic divider.

Sergio counted the cash and stamped both their booklets. 

"You're set." He said quietly as he slipped the money into his desk and didn't even bother to say thank you.

Ian stood there for a moment while Mickey rushed to the front gate. They entered through a group of people who passed by them quickly as if each one of them had somewhere to be. He kept following behind Mickey when they went through but suddenly stopped in his tracks in front of him. Ian didn't look at him as he stared into the city before them.

He couldn't move.

There was a feeling inside him that he hadn't felt before. Something that had been waiting to bloom and flourish for too long and was finally released in his body. He took a brief moment to look around as he let the feeling flow through him.

_Freedom._

His eyes flooded with tears and he couldn't stop them as they poured down his cheeks. Mickey was beside him most likely feeling exactly what he was, but before he could study his expression he immediately grabbed him by the waist pulling him into an intimate embrace. Hundreds of people were passing by them but he didn't care. He wrapped his arms under him and could feel Mickey's face burrowing in his neck, the sound of bottled up emotion finally escaping from him. He felt his hands cradle around his head as he gripped his hair tightly in his fists, massaging his head with comfort as he automatically closed his arms around him tighter. And tighter.

He never wanted to let go, and now he would never have to.

"We made it." Mickey sobbed into him, his hands sliding from the back of Ian's head to the sides of his face, cupping his cheeks in his palms. "We fucking made it, babe." He gave his face a hard shake as Ian closed his eyes letting the tears flow out of him. He couldn't hide his beaming grin. He continued to cry until he was hyperventilating, the relief and happiness completely overwhelming him. He pulled Mickey's waist closer letting his hands guide themselves up his chest and to his face. He pulled in and kissed his lips with a new, exhilarating passion. 

There they were, just over the Mexican border, their faces in their hands as they kissed and cried together in the midst of a crowd.

He couldn't think straight as he was soaking in every second of this bliss, still holding Mickey's face in his hands, staring into his beautiful tear soaked eyes before pulling him back into his neck where he let him continue to bawl. He broke away every so often to look at him, to touch every inch of him as if to make sure this truly was real. He felt the warmth of his skin trace on his fingertips, wiping away his tears and laughing sympathetically. 

It was the purest moment.

As they were still sobbing with alleviation he pulled him from his grasp one more time to get another view of his perfect face. He kissed the center of his forehead.

"I love you." Ian spoke with such conviction as if it were his last dying words. He was staring into those dark blues, the center of Mickey's core, the inner fiber of his being and the essence of his soul as he stroked his face lovingly planting a series of soft kisses on his hot skin. "I love you so fucking much." He repeated, their foreheads pressed together as he spoke.

Mickey laid another tender kiss on his lips and Ian could tell he didn't want to break apart. "I know." He said between their kissing. "I love you too. God I fucking love you." 

The sobbing continued. He didn't know where they were going but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. The arguments, the challenges, the legal trouble. It was all in the past now.

All of the horrific events they had endured were finally over.

Mickey Milkovich and Ian Gallagher could live their happily ever after, together.

Now Ian truly felt whole, complete and _free_.

The End.


End file.
